


How to Train Your Dragon

by Lyds and Ally (thunderandlightning)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, F/F, F/M, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build, stiles is a dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 195,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderandlightning/pseuds/Lyds%20and%20Ally
Summary: After their plan to stop the Nogitsune doesn't quite work out how they had hoped, the pack tries to recover.In this 'verse:Allison did not die.Cora and Malia were not introduced (though they will be in this story).Derek still became a beta, but not through giving up his power to save Cora.





	1. The Vote

Stiles stared in horror as Scott’s bite seemed to have no effect on the creature that had copied his form. He had hoped that it would work, but he had also been unable to shake the feeling that something would go wrong, and now it had. 

The nogitsune shuddered, closing his eyes. “I appreciate a good trick as much as anyone.” He began, opening his eyes again and turning his head to look at Scott. “But what you just did was a _mistake_.”

Scott swallowed roughly, backing up without taking his eyes off of the thing wearing his best friend’s face. He couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong - everything they’d found out had said that the nogitsune couldn’t be a fox and another creature at the same time, and the easiest way to deduce that had been for an Alpha wolf to bite him. But it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d gotten the wrong information, he thought frantically, recalling that Derek had informed him of the rumor that killing the Alpha that turned him would change him back into a human. If he survived this, he really had to learn to do better research. 

The nogitsune smiled. “Oh, Scott. You poor, sad child. You believed that I could die from the bite of a wolf? Who do you think created that lie?” 

“Leave him alone.” Stiles’ voice shook from exhaustion. “Obviously, we can’t stop you, and you can’t go around murdering everyone. You need them, as a sustainable food source. You keep going on like this, you’re going to make them stop fearing you and become resigned to inevitability.”

“Is that your way of convincing me that love might save me?” The creature sneered. 

“No.” Stiles shook his head as the nogitsune turned toward him. “Nobody could ever love you, the smallest reason being that you picked the most pathetic pack member to xerox, and the biggest reason being that you’re not worth the trouble. Still... you now have a few exploitable flaws. Weaknesses. That new set of DNA comes along with an aversion to mountain ash, wolfsbane... silver.” He smiled slowly. “The bite itself can’t kill you, but you can die.”

Scott tried his best to disguise the naked hope on his face at Stiles’ words, and his eyes remained focused on the fox. He felt something in his chest rear its head and protest the way Stiles had referred to himself, then made a note to revisit the comment once they got away - because he had no doubt that they would get away. He’d just gotten Stiles back - he had no plans to lose his best friend twice to the creature in front of them.

Stiles glanced at Lydia, who was supporting most of his weight. “Now,” he murmured.

Lydia screamed, directing her voice at the nogitsune. Allison was supposed to have taken the remark about silver as a cue, but Stiles had a few back-up plans, and Lydia’s scream had been one of them.

Scott slammed his hands over his ears as Lydia’s voice echoed through the hallway, and he whipped his head over his shoulder to look for Allison, suddenly worried about why she hadn’t reacted. He ducked and flattened himself to the floor a second later. 

Allison, a fed up expression on her face, aimed her arrow at the nogitsune’s chest and let it fly. “Like-liking you couldn’t even save you,” she snorted.

The nogitsune tried to catch the arrow before it could pierce his chest, but he wasn’t fast enough. The scream of the banshee had slowed him down. He coughed in surprise, then ran for the exit.

Stiles shook his head, sighing. “Can someone please go stop him? He has my face.”

As the nogitsune approached the exit, Derek appeared and simply held one arm out, clotheslining the demon. He scowled at the thing wearing Stiles’ face. “Stay.” He snapped. 

“Why, so you can kill me? Pass.” The nogitsune scoffed. 

“Actually, we had a different plan in mind for you.” Stiles called out as he slowly approached the doorway. “You need to connect with humanity. Try, you live. Refuse? You’ll die.” 

Derek bared his teeth in a feral grin, his claws sharpening in an instant. 

As if to put a punctuation on Derek’s actions and Stiles’ last word, Allison nocked another arrow, a crooked smile on her lips. 

“Are we done with the dick comparisons?” Lydia rolled her eyes at Derek and Allison. 

“It’s all they know.” Stiles snorted. “Well, Derek, at least. Seriously, puncturing a basketball is not going to win you friends.”

Derek shot Stiles a scowl as Scott choked back a laugh.

“Shoot me again.” Stiles’ carbon copy told Allison. “It’s better than dealing with all of this bullshit.”

Allison smirked, and then promptly lowered the bow. “Nah. I think this is actually kind of a perfect sort of torture for something like you.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doing with him.” Stiles remarked. “I can’t take him to my house.”

“We could lock him up at Derek’s old place?” Scott suggested carefully.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Stiles nodded. “I need to lay down now.”

Scott hurried to Stiles’ side, swinging an arm around the other teen. “Hey, here. I’m here. Come on, I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Thanks.” Stiles murmured, closing his eyes. “I know you never would’ve let me kill him.”

“Not you.” Scott murmured after a pause. “But I’d have done anything if it kept you safe. I don’t care what it was, I’d do it.”

“Yeah, well, my dad probably appreciates that.” Stiles smiled crookedly. He watched as Lydia led his doppelgänger away, toward the parking lot. He wasn’t worried about her, he knew she was armed with at least three weapons.

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze, his eyes focusing on Lydia as well. He exhaled softly. “She took pretty good care of you, huh?”

“Yeah, but that’s not - she’s not interested. Even less now, after Xerox kidnapped her and used her to draw us out.” Stiles shrugged. 

“Hm.” Scott rubbed his face with his free hand, tucking close to Stiles. “Yeah… I guess that makes a difference. But still. I mean, maybe not anytime soon, but maybe someday? In the future?”

“Sure, yeah. You know. When we’re eighty and she’s got glaucoma or myopia, and her third husband dies.” Stiles snorted. 

“Your prospects will be looking pretty good, then,” Scott teased gently, grinning at the other teen. He nudged him playfully, pressing their shoulders together gently and affectionately, still relieved that he finally had his best friend back.

“Such a comfort.” Stiles laughed. “Seriously, home now?”

Scott nodded with a smile. “Yeah, buddy, home now.” He led Stiles toward the Jeep and helped his friend inside the passenger side seat, then climbed into the driver’s side himself and starting for Stiles’ house. “You want me to stay over?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah, I don’t trust that asshole.” Stiles admitted. “He might try to separate us permanently.” He didn’t want to explain that the nogitsune had full access to Stiles’ mind and had actually learned from him. 

Scott reached over and squeezed Stiles’ hand gently. “We won’t let him.” He assured Stiles. “We’re gonna be fine. I promise. He won’t be able to do anything to us.”

“I hope you’re right.” Stiles murmured.

**

The nogitsune woke up the next morning, baffled by his new need for rejuvenation. He sat up, wondering if he could make a break for it and disappear from Beacon Hills. Things weren’t going at all how he had expected, but he wasn’t entirely disappointed by chaos within his own life. It was what helped him thrive. 

Derek was staring straight at him from the wall of the basement, his arms folded over his chest. “You look refreshed.” He said flatly.

“You sound like an extra in a zombie movie.” The nogitsune retorted, Stiles’ speech pattern still fresh in his mind. “Guarding me, I take it? What the hell difference does it even make to you people, what I do now? It’s not like I’m immortal anymore, and you’ve proven that you’ve got some kind of hard-on for hurting me.” 

Derek’s lips twitched faintly. “You’re all about chaos. And you’re wearing my friend’s face. Take a guess why it matters what you do from this point on.”

“Well, under other circumstances, I could have solved that problem by taking on someone else’s appearance, but these new limitations have screwed me over!” He screamed at Derek, furious and embarrassed that a group of teenagers had gotten the better of him. He calmed instantly, smiling as he tried to regain control of the situation. “I bet this is driving you crazy, isn’t it? I’m sitting right here, looking exactly like the guy you decided to spend a few months beating the shit out of and manipulating to get whatever you wanted, and in the end? All it took was me asking that he let me in, and he agreed. I got to run his life in ways you only ever dreamed about.” 

Derek snorted out a laugh. “You think I wanted to run his life? It took one time, trying to get him to do what I wanted him to do, to realize that whatever I asked him to do was going to result in the exact opposite. Everything else was just out of enjoyment at messing with him. He’s the only one that ever argued with me logically. But go on, keep crying about how you can’t fool us and screw us over anymore, and how unfair your new lease on life is.”

“What do you get out of this, Derek? If you let me leave town, it’s not like I would ever come back here. I could just be someone else’s problem to deal with, and your pack? Safe. I’ve got nothing else to say to you, unless you want to talk about swimsuit models. Or if something else is more your speed?” 

Derek shook his head. “Nope. Go ahead and clam up. I think I prefer you quiet anyway.” He smirked faintly. “And I get the satisfaction of seeing yet another supernatural creature underestimate the people in this town. I get to see you like no one else ever has in your entire existence.”

“Naked?” The nogitsune smiled slyly. 

“No, idiot.” Derek scoffed. “Defeated.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen this body defeated plenty of times. I know you’ve had a habit of making Stiles feel awful. I got into all of his memories like they were a scrapbook of bullshit.” 

“Uh-huh. Well, we’re talking about you. Not Stiles. Shockingly, I know the difference.” Derek muttered, scowling at the entity and refusing to allow how the fox’s words about Stiles made him feel.

“Do you? Suppose some night, a crowded party, he and I just happen to show up in the same outfit. Would you really know?” 

Derek grit his teeth. “Yes.” He spat out. “I would.”

“You’re boring me.” The nogitsune complained, laying back on the bed and putting his hands under his head. 

“Good.” Derek laughed suddenly. “Boring you is the least I can do after everything you’ve pulled.”

Instead of answering, the fox spirit started singing to himself, looking up at the ceiling. 

Derek scoffed, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone, debating with himself for a moment before texting Stiles and leaning back against the wall. He exhaled slowly. ‘How are you feeling today?’ He finally texted, grimacing to himself at how awkward it felt to him to phrase the question casually. 

‘Better, thanks. I’ve been chugging Pedialyte and Sprite, and drinking chicken broth. It’s gross, but I hurt too much to chew food.’ Stiles wondered if he should say something more, but figured that Derek would tell him if ‘Xerox’ was causing problems. 

‘It’s better than an IV drip.’ Derek pointed out, smiling faintly. He paused again, furrowing his brow before adding, ‘I bored the fox. He’s ignoring me now by singing and staring at the ceiling.’ Another pause. ‘I feel like I could do more to goad him but I’m out of practice, and it’s weird. That he looks like you, I mean.’ He sent it before he could delete the last part, blinking rapidly. 

‘Do you think killing him was the better option?’ Stiles replied. ‘Because I could come over and we could do that. We just can’t tell Scott.’ 

‘I’m all for getting rid of him. He started complaining about us torturing him, and how he couldn’t even do anything anymore because he wasn’t immortal. But he could, he could do a lot with your face. His urge for chaos didn’t disappear just because he’s mortal, and I don’t trust him out of my sight for a second. I don’t know what he’d try if he got away, so yeah, I would actually prefer killing him.’

‘I’ll be over soon, then.’ Stiles replied. 

‘I’ll be waiting for you.’ Derek paled after he sent the text. ‘Downstairs. Just come right inside.’

Half an hour later, Stiles trudged into the building, blinking in an effort to stay awake. “Hey.” He murmured to Derek. “I kind of lied about being better, but I’m at least not going to collapse.” 

Derek studied him silently and then gently reached a hand out to squeeze his shoulder. “You don’t have to be in there.” He started. “If it’s going to be rough on you to be - you know, face to face with the fox…” His brows furrowed in concern. 

“No, I’m fine.” Stiles insisted. “I know he can’t do anything to me, now.” He shook his head. “I just don’t want to let him get strong and mess with us again.” 

“We wouldn’t let him.” Derek assured him quietly. “You wouldn’t.” He sighed quietly, and, keeping his voice quiet, he said, “Come on, then. I’ll need to find a good spot to bury it. No dog jokes, I know how that sounded.”

Stiles smiled. “Okay, do you want to find a spot first, or get to the killin’?” He teased. 

Derek smirked faintly back at him, lips twitching. “The spot can wait. Let’s get this done and over with.” He nodded his head toward the dungeon and started walking. 

Stiles followed, bumping into Derek’s back and peering over his shoulder, at the empty bed. “Shit.” 

“How - no.” Derek blurted, his eyes widening. “He was there. I swear to god, he was there. Minutes ago. Not even minutes. A minute.”

“We’ll have to tell Scott, but I’m thinking maybe this just means he’ll stay away?” Stiles murmured. “We can hope.” 

Derek’s lips were pinched. “We can hope.” He repeated in agreement. “And if he does come back, we’ll take it into our own hands. Scott won’t.”

“Yeah, he’s... he’s just Scott.” Stiles shrugged. 

“He is.” Derek agreed. “But he’s also an alpha now. He can’t… he can’t solve all of his problem situations by… trusting that telling the bad guys to stop being bad is going to work. I know he’s your best friend, but it’s just… he’s innocent and naive and his methods are only going to work for so long before someone gets really badly hurt.” His eyes flicked over Stiles. “This is the third time you’ve been really badly hurt, Stiles. What he’s doing, what he’s done in the past, it isn’t working.”

“I know that.” Stiles murmured. “He’s not really prepared for this. I’ve known that for awhile. I think he’s been lucky. Between you and me, I don’t know how this whole ‘true alpha’ thing works, I just know that sometimes, I think he should let someone else take over. But not you. No offense.” 

Derek snorted and shook his head. “No, I know. I don’t think I’d ever touch that power again with a ten foot pole. There were only two people in my family suited to it, and they’re both gone now.”

“Well, let’s talk to Scott and tell him what’s going on, and see how he feels about letting someone else take control.” Stiles suggested. “You’ll back me, right? You’re not going to, uh, pretend that you want him in charge?” 

“I definitely do not want him in charge. He has a lot to learn before he could begin to make the sort of impact, the sort of decisions that a seasoned alpha can make. My mom had years of training from my grandmother, and even after she became the alpha, she still had my grandmother there for guidance. Scott…” Derek shook his head and sighed. “He’s got his own opinions and that’s fine, but he doesn’t seem to understand that people need guidance from everyone for everything, and that includes werewolves.”

“But ideally, you want another werewolf in charge, don’t you?” Stiles asked. “And that doesn’t leave many options.” 

Derek exhaled, making a face. “No, it doesn’t.” He agreed. “Who would you suggest? If… werewolf can’t be a consideration?”

“Lydia.” Stiles made a face, as well. “I know that might sound like I'm playing favorites. It’s just that she’s better at leading, I think. She doesn’t take no for an answer and she thinks things through. Kira might be more powerful, physically, but she’s too nervous. She would second guess her own decisions and just ask Scott for his opinion. A strong leader has to have more confidence than that, and Lydia does.” 

Derek looked dubiously at Stiles, but sighed. “We’ll talk to Scott. After we talk to Lydia.” He agreed eventually. 

“Who did you expect me to say?” Stiles demanded. “You don’t seem like you agree with me.” 

“Honestly? Part of me kind of expected you to say… well, you.” Derek admitted. “You’ve always known when talking it out needs to be done - at least, it seems like it to me. And I’ve never seen anyone fight as hard as you have for their pack before.”

Stiles sat down, his hands folded between his knees as he thought for a few minutes. “I don’t know if Scott would forgive me for kind of pushing him aside and taking control, like that. I’ve kind of always said he should listen to me, but sometimes I’m glad that he doesn’t. Sometimes I say things that I don’t even agree with, just because I feel like hitting that extreme gives us something to bounce back from, to decide on a real solution. I guess if I was in charge, I couldn’t do that anymore. I wouldn’t want people thinking I was serious. But then, I know that rehabilitation only works if the person wants to change. Growing up around cops, it’s been... there are a lot of repeat offenders, even around here. Even for stuff I consider small, like drug use.” He shook his head, snorting. “I’m getting sidetracked. Having me in charge is going to make things a little tougher on the pack. I’ve thought about what I would do.” He admitted. “I expect more things. I don’t want us to only work together on solutions for psychotic killer witches or zombie werewolves. I think if we’re going to be better, it’s going to take more than banding together for survival.” He leaned back a little, getting his phone out of his pocket. He sent a text to Scott and Lydia. ‘Xerox escaped. We need to talk.’ He called his dad immediately afterward. “Hey. The me that isn’t me got loose.” 

There was immediately cursing on the other side of the line. “How long ago?” John eventually asked in resignation. 

“Less than five minutes.” Stiles murmured. “And he’s weaker now, so I don’t think he can move too fast. Faster than me, but that’s a given.” 

“Alright. Where are you now?” John asked. “I’m guessing at Derek’s? I’ll get Parrish and we’ll head out. Stay safe, kiddo.”

“Thanks. I will.” Stiles agreed. “And yeah, that’s where I’m at. Well, the old place.” He took his phone away from his ear when he got a text from Lydia, which she had also sent to Scott. 

‘Meet for coffee?’

Stiles sent a quick ‘k’ and put the phone back by his ear, hoping he hadn’t missed anything important from his dad. 

“... to his new place, alright? Stay together. I’ll give you a call when I find him.” John was saying.

Another text arrived in that span, from Scott. ‘Crap. Yeah, I’ll be there. Wasn’t it Derek’s turn to watch him?’

“We’re going to get coffee downtown. Maybe we’ll see him on the way? I’ll definitely let you know. Gotta go. Love you, Dad.” Stiles hung up, then rolled his eyes as he read Scott’s text. He started texting in response as he glanced up at Derek. “We’re going to get coffee and talk.” ‘He was helping me walk down the stairs because I’m a frail human being.’ 

Derek nodded warily. “Alright.” He murmured. 

‘You’re not frail, dude, you’re just hurt. And good, at least he’s doing something other than growling at you.’

Stiles read the text and grimaced, shoving the phone back into his pocket as he stood up. “Okay, my dad’s been alerted and he’s got Parrish helping him. I have a feeling that Lyds is bringing Ally, and Scott will probably bring Kira and Isaac.” 

Derek nodded, still studying Stiles before sighing. “What did he say about me now?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“First, you got blamed for not watching him, and when I pointed out that you were helping me, he said it was better than you growling at me.” Stiles paused. “He’s not entirely wrong in that last one, but yeah, that’s not inspiring loyalty. I’ll handle this, okay?” 

Derek exhaled quietly, nodding. “Yeah. Alright.” He muttered, then gestured for Stiles to go ahead of him. 

**

Stiles ordered a hazelnut coffee and sat down at a table, rubbing his side because he had a stiff muscle there. He was hoping that the coffee would help, but it felt like every blast of cold air from an incoming customer was going straight to him, despite his forethought to sit as far from the door as he could. 

Scott walked in, leading Kira and Isaac into the shop, then dropped down beside Stiles. “Hey, buddy.” He greeted, reaching out to gently pat Stiles’ shoulder. “How’re you doing? The nogitsune didn’t touch you before it ran, did it?”

“Nah, Xerox was gone when I got down the stairs.” Stiles murmured. “I’m pretty sure you can call him a he now, anyway?” 

Kira rested a hand on the back of Scott’s chair. “Do you want me to get you anything?” She asked the alpha, smiling hesitantly at him. 

Scott smiled brightly back at her. “Sure! I mean, if you want to. You can sit down, too, and I’ll grab something for both of us later?”

Stiles glanced at Derek and winked, then looked up at Kira. “Scott likes hot chocolate, if he’s not in the mood for coffee. Just get him that. He’s not sure what he wants, and he wanted time to look at the menu, that’s all.” He turned toward Scott. “We don’t have time, really.” 

Scott’s cheeks were red. “Ah. Yeah, um, Kira, you can sit down, it’s cool.”

Derek snorted quietly, his lips twitching up as he glanced sideways at Stiles. 

Stiles smiled. “Kira, go ahead and get the drinks. And if you get to the counter before Lydia and Allison get here, you might as well order for them, too. Lydia likes blueberry coffee and Allison likes, um...” He frowned, thinking. “I think just get her something plain, she can add syrup to it at the station thing over there.” 

Derek watched the slightly overwhelmed expression on the kitsune’s face and let out a soft laugh. “It’s okay. Come on, I’ll help you.” He stood and gave Stiles a small smile, squeezing the teen’s shoulder gently. 

Stiles reached up to pat Derek’s hand. He waved to Lydia when the redhead walked in, then motioned her to the table. “I already told Kira what you and Allison order.” He explained “So unless you don’t want blueberry coffee, just sit down. Please?” 

Lydia shrugged, smiling as she unwound a scarf from around her neck. She sat down and dropped the scarf onto her lap. “What’s going on? Other than the obvious, of course. You wouldn’t be calling a meeting if we were all just going to look for the nogitsune.” 

“Are we?” Allison asked as she came up behind them and took a seat next to Lydia and across from Stiles. She looked curious instead of concerned. “What do you think he might do?”

“He kept trying to leave.” Stiles mused. “So he probably left. I don’t know where he’d go, but I have a few ideas about where he might consider.” He blew on his coffee, then took a tentative sip. “He’s got no money, but had full access to my brain. He doesn’t have my bank card, and the bank is closed today, anyway. If he wants to get somewhere, he’ll have to be more clever than that. I should probably mention that I know how to hotwire a car. Which means he knows how, too. But Lydia is right, it’s not about him right now.” 

Scott blinked in confusion. “So then, what is it about?” He asked, frowning. 

Stiles felt a little nervous, and it was making him start to fidget, which in turn made him shiver. He sighed, closing his eyes and telling himself to be still for a minute. “I don’t like things as they are.” He said softly, opening his eyes to look at Scott. “It’s kind of taking everything I have to say that, you know? The idea of anything changing freaks me out, but I think it’s time for different.” 

Allison watched him in concern, glancing at Lydia uncertainly. “So… we’ll change things.” She assured him. “What is it that you want to be different?”

Scott stared at Stiles expectantly, looking confused. “Yeah, we’ll… we’ll work things out. We just need to know what those things are. What are we doing, buddy?”

“I want you to step back.” Stiles said softly. “I know you’re the true alpha and I get what that means, but at the same time, I don’t. I don’t think that you can make certain decisions that might need to be made, and I’m not getting any joy out of saying any of this. I thought maybe Lydia, but... I think it has to be me?” He glanced at Lydia, who gave him an awkward smile in return. 

Scott seemed to stare harder at Stiles, like he wasn’t entirely sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “You’re… you don’t think I should be the alpha?” He said, furrowing his brows. “What are you - did Derek put you up to this? This is a joke, right?”

“When has anyone ever been able to make me do something I don’t want to do?” Stiles retorted. “This hatred you have for Derek is really misplaced, you know that? That’s part of the problem. You can’t keep a group together if you’re treating one of them like shit.” He found his gaze going to Isaac as he spoke, and he laughed a little. “Uh, which brings me to another point. I know I have a lot to make up for. But I want to try.” 

Isaac shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried muttering, his hands twisting around each other and one leg bouncing awkwardly. 

“How is it misplaced?” Scott was still stuck on Stiles’ words, looking gobsmacked. “How is any hatred I have for Derek misplaced? He made my life hell, he ruined it, he tried to boss me around like it was his place to do it! And he’s an ass!”

“Derek didn’t do shit to you!” Stiles blurted. “That was me! I did that.” 

Scott shook his head. “You made a mistake. You’re not the one that bit me, and you’re not the one that tried to make me his beta. That was all him. Why are you even defending him? Up until recently, I thought you and I were kind of in agreement about a lot of stuff being his fault and hating him and stuff?”

Allison interrupted, looking annoyed. “You do kind of go overboard with how much you don’t like him, Scott. I was in agreement with you at first until I realized a few things about Derek and why he was doing the things he did.”

“Also, Derek didn’t bite you.” Lydia added. “Peter did.”

“I wasn’t a fan of him shoving me around.” Stiles agreed softly. “But he won’t do that again." 

Kira carried a couple of drinks over to the table and set them down for herself and Scott. She eyed the expressions on everyone’s faces and shrank in on herself, sipping her drink and keeping her gaze averted. 

Derek arrived just after her and placed the drinks he held in front of everyone else, keeping his own gaze away. He sat down on Stiles’ other side silently, his brow furrowing. 

Scott stared around at everyone in disbelief. “Okay, But… you don’t know that he won’t do that again.” He protested at Stiles. “Maybe he said he wouldn’t, but - but he’s a liar. Remember when he said that killing the alpha that bit me would make me human again? Remember how well that turned out? He was lying, he just wanted the alpha power for himself. He never cared about me being human again.”

Isaac furrowed his brows. “But… didn’t Peter also kill Derek’s older sister for the power?”

Scott sputtered for a moment, and then went with it. “Exactly! It must run in the family. Killing people for their power, I mean.”

Allison’s eyes went wide. “What.”

Stiles’ teeth clenched. “I think you’d better reconsider your words, Scotty.” He said calmly. “Because there are at least four people at this table who really don’t want to explain to you why being genetically-predispositioned to anything their relatives do is in-fucking-correct and insulting. And you damn well know what I’m talking about. Or should we keep you away from alcohol? Oh, or your own kids, one day?” 

Scott’s mouth opened, and then he blinked, his teeth clacking shut with sudden alarm. He swallowed roughly and looked at Stiles, shaking his head. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean that… I didn’t mean that. Never that. I’m not like my dad. You’re not yours. Isaac… none of us are like our parents.” His shoulders slumped a little and he changed a glance at Derek, frowning a little when he saw that the older man was sitting stone-faced in his chair, not acknowledging anyone at all. His words came back to him, and he recalled a lot of what Derek had been through both before and after Scott had met the man - and then cringed. “And… Derek isn’t like his uncle. At all.”

“I thought that a werewolf had to be the alpha of a werewolf pack.” Lydia murmured. “Which leaves us out.” 

“In very rare circumstances an alpha can be a human.” Derek said quietly, barely glancing at Scott. “Very rare. Usually a human can be an interim alpha - you know. Filling in for the actual alpha. But that’s not the case here. Stiles has been through a lot and he’s not unscathed. But he’s still standing. He would do anything for his pack. And he’s logical enough and clever enough to get us moving in the right direction, to keep us talking when any discussion starts failing. I think he could easily be our alpha.”

“I’m okay with it, as long as the power doesn’t go to his head.” Lydia said carefully. She looked over at Allison. 

Allison glanced back at Lydia, and then she nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m for it. I think Stiles could be good at this, and he at least deserves the chance to prove it.”

“That’s four to three, assuming you three are against the idea.” Lydia remarked, turning her head to look at Scott, Kira and Isaac. “Thoughts?” 

Scott’s fingers twitched a little, but he exhaled softly. “I’m not against it. Stiles… has more foresight than I do. And he’s a lot more reasonable. That’s - I know that’s something I’m lacking.”

Isaac cleared his throat and shifted. “I mean… at this point it doesn’t really matter if I’ve got an objection, does it? If I even did. I don’t, for clarification.”

“An objection would make you an omega.” Stiles remarked. “Which I don’t want to see happen to you, actually.” 

“Wait, isn’t Stiles’ idea of problem-solving to kill the threat?” Kira blinked. “I don’t want to do that.” 

“It’s not, and we’ll discuss that later. If there’s a later for you.” Stiles said gently. “If you’re not okay, then you’re not.” 

Scott opened his mouth to say something reassuring to Kira, and then shut his mouth again. He’d proven to himself that sometimes opening his mouth wasn’t always a good idea, so instead, he smiled reassuringly and nodded at Kira. 

“Then I guess, I’m okay with it.” Kira murmured. 

Stiles nodded. “Okay, then first thing, I want to find Xerox. If we can. If not, good riddance. This town is our priority, not anything outside of it.” 

“What do we do if he’s already gone?” Allison asked, leaning over the table and looking at him worriedly. 

“Call everyone we know who isn’t living here, anymore.” Stiles mused. “And send Peter after him, probably? I mean, Derek could travel, but I’d kind of rather have him here, advising me on actual, uh, protocol. For packs. I don’t trust Peter to do that, and he’s at least good at murder.” 

“So he’s going to be our pitbull?” Isaac asked, and then grimaced. “Sorry. Forget I said that part about the pitbull. He’s going to be our… um…” He scrunched his eyebrows together. “He’ll be our assassin?”

“He’s not _our_ anything.” Stiles shook his head. “Think of him as being more like a freelance, uh, bounty hunter. Except instead of bringing people back alive...” He shrugged. “I guess assassin could be the word for it, but that makes him sound more badass than I think he deserves.” 

Derek grinned faintly. “You’re not wrong.” He murmured. “Peter’s head is already big enough. Giving him a title that makes him sound awesome is a disaster waiting to happen.” He glanced up at Isaac and smiled cautiously. “Let’s stick with, ‘He does our dirty work.’”

Isaac smiled back a little and nodded. “Okay.” He murmured. 

“At least for now.” Stiles muttered, fidgeting with his cup of coffee. “But anyway... we don’t have much in the way of transportation here, except the bus that comes from Redding. So you’ll want to check there, and...” He thought carefully. “If there’s any report of a stolen car, my dad will know about it. Other than that, he’s walking. So there’s the Preserve, but I think if he wants to take his chances with that, we should just let him.” 

Allison nodded slowly. “Well, I’ll go check out the bus station, if anyone wants to come with me.”

Stiles sat back. He eyed Scott, Isaac, and Derek. “Derek.” He nodded to the older man. “Go with her. It might not hurt to check the roads at either end of town, that lead out. So... Kira and Scott can take one, and Isaac and Lydia can take the other one.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going home to check my bank account and see if there’s been any activity that didn’t actually come from me. I’ll let you guys know if there’s a change of plans.” 

Lydia glanced at Kira and Scott, then looked back at Stiles, surprised by his decision. Of the pack members, the kitsune and true alpha - if he could even be called that anymore - were the most likely to have a discussion and decide to leave the pack. Giving them opportunity to reach that decision together wasn’t something she would have done. 

Scott shifted, but gave Stiles a nod and stood up, grabbing his drink in one hand. He patted Stiles’ shoulder with the other, then reached for Kira’s hand. “Come on.” He murmured to her.

Kira smiled and took Scott’s hand, walking outside with him. “Are you really all right with this? Because I feel like it’s strange.” 

Scott exhaled slowly. “I think… I think I can be okay with it eventually. Right now, I’m still sort of… stunned? And reeling a little bit.”

“It’s not something I ever expected Stiles to do.” Kira agreed. “You could have told him no.” 

“I could have.” Scott admitted. “But… what if he’s right? I mean… I don’t really know what I’m doing a lot of the time. Most of the time, I’ve just been really lucky. And he isn’t wrong about the way I treat Derek. Derek’s old pack was his family. Literally his whole family. It’s what he’s used to. And then he lost them, and then I got bit, and - and I’m supposed to be his new pack, but I just treat him like… less than dirt. Like I’m better than him somehow?” He shook his head. “I think Stiles is right. An alpha is supposed to bring their pack together and keep it together. I’m… not really doing that. Not where Derek’s concerned.”

“Okay.” Kira murmured. “I didn’t think you were like that, but maybe I was just... not seeing it? Let’s just go check the north end of town, okay?” 

Scott nodded silently, sighing, and he led the way.


	2. The Spell

The nogitsune had grown a little fond of the nickname that his previous host had given him, so he had decided to refer to himself as Xerox, or ‘X’, if that wasn’t too pretentious. He had stolen a credit card from a woman at an airport and paid for a plane ticket to London, and now he was wandering around the city and trying to figure out where to find Jackson. He was limited in his knowledge, only knowing what Stiles knew, and thought he could feed on the kanima’s irritation for a few days, until he got bored again and decided to wander off for another part of the world. 

Jackson walked down the street, bundled up tightly in his brand new coat with his hands shoved in his pockets. He hadn’t lived in London for long - he hadn’t really wanted to live there in the first place - but certain aspects of the city felt more like home than Beacon Hills ever did, and he’d eventually found himself embracing his new life there. Which was why he felt his old rage come flowing right back when he casually looked across the street and spotted Stiles Stilinski walking the opposite way. “No fucking way.” He muttered under his breath. Clenching his fists, he tugged the collar of his coat up and did his best to look invisible. If he didn’t acknowledge Stilinski’s existence, they could just continue on their separate ways and Stilinski would never need to know how close they’d been to crossing paths.

Xerox ran across the road, ignoring the cars coming at him. He regretted that decision when one car hit him, and he landed on his back, a few feet away from the vehicle. It took a few seconds for him to stop being dazed, and he got up and surveyed any damage to his body. There were bruises and possibly a cracked rib, but it didn’t hurt too badly. 

Jackson turned when he heard the impact and felt his eyes widen when he spotted Stiles and the car with the remarkably clear Stiles-shaped dent in the hood. “What the fuck.” He snapped, looking at the other man furiously. “Dude, what the hell is your problem, are you insane?”

“Some would say.” Xerox smiled. “Nice to see you, Jackson.” 

Jackson’s lips tightened. “Can’t say the same for you. What the fuck are you even doing here?” He snapped, and started walking without waiting for an answer, eager to get out of the middle of the road - and Stiles, if the other teen would let him get away.

“Well, I actually came to see you.” Xerox laughed, unable to believe his luck. The teens in Beacon Hills were assholes who had never bothered calling their former friend. “I dropped out. Too much bullshit.” 

Jackson snorted. “Stilinski the high school dropout? Bet your cop dad just loved that.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Xerox murmured. “I got kicked out of Beacon Hills, sort of. So, what are we doing?” 

“We aren’t doing anything. I don’t even want you here.” Jackson muttered.

“Well, that’s too bad.” Xerox didn’t have a certainty that Jackson had a sexual attraction to other guys, but he had Stiles’ memories of the other boy, and those were a good indication. He glanced at Jackson’s lips, then looked back up into his eyes. 

Jackson kept his gaze firmly forward, his jaw clenching. “You’re going to follow me to kingdom come, aren’t you?” He snapped eventually. “What? What are you looking at me for?”

“I was thinking about kissing you.” Xerox smiled. “But that’s probably a horrible idea.” 

Jackson stopped short, sputtering. “A horrible idea?” He blurted. “A horrible idea, he says. You’re damn right it’d be a horrible idea! Talking about kissing me like I’d want it, it’s the last thing I’d ever want,” he muttered, ranting under his breath as he continued walking.

The nogitsune-turned-werewolf put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder and turned the boy toward him, leaning in for a kiss. His eyes burned behind his eyelids and his vision was different when he looked at Jackson. 

Jackson flailed, his eyes widening, and he pushed his hands up between himself and Stiles, looking alarmed. “What the fuck happened to you?!” He blurted, taking in the yellow eyes staring back at him.

“Got bit.” Xerox snorted. “Obviously. You know what that’s like.” 

Jackson’s eyes subconsciously flashed blue, even as his lips tightened. He couldn’t help himself. “Who in their right mind would bite you? Did Derek finally lose his fucking mind?”

“Actually, it was Scott.” Xerox took pleasure in the fact that he didn’t have to lie. 

Jackson looked appropriately horrified. “Scott killed Derek and then turned you? Scott’s an alpha?” He stared up at the sky, trying to calm down. “The world is ending, isn’t it? The apocalypse is gonna start.”

“If it does, I’ll actually enjoy that.” Xerox laughed, shrugging. “Scott didn’t kill Derek, he became an alpha on his own. Something about being pure of heart or whatever. It wasn’t because he’s a virgin, Allison made sure of that.” He snorted. “Can I stay with you, or not?” 

Jackson grimaced. “You won’t go away even if I say no, will you.” He replied flatly.

Xerox shook his head slowly. “No, I won’t.” 

Cursing quietly, Jackson shot Stiles a frustrated look. “Fine. I don’t know why the fuck you came to see me of all people but fine. You stay as long as you fucking like. You do whatever the hell you want, you always do anyway.”

“Hmm, I do, don’t I?” Xerox kissed Jackson again, surprised by the first kiss because he hadn’t realized he would feel anything from it, and he wanted to see if it was just a fluke or a legitimate response. 

Jackson bit his lower lip before jerking back, scowling. “Quit it!”

“Why?” Xerox frowned. “You like it, don’t you? It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me, I just want to make out a little.” He borrowed a familiar phrase from Stiles’ memories, since he knew he was behaving differently from how the human would have. 

“I don’t like you!” Jackson muttered in frustration, rubbing a little in distraction at his lips. The truth was, kissing Stiles made him feel uncomfortable, and it was just easier for him to act disgusted with the other teen.

“Then I won’t do it again.” Xerox murmured. “Sorry.” He was confused because he actually meant it, and he didn’t like that. “You know what, this was stupid. I’ll just go find a hotel.” 

Jackson paused, and then sighed. “No, it’s fine. You can stay with me.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” Xerox muttered. “I thought you’d welcome me, but I guess I could just go find my way to Paris.” 

“Just stay.” Jackson told him. “Look, I’m…” He gulped. “Sorry. It’s just… been awhile since I’ve seen you and I kinda just… reverted back to my usual method of dealing with the exasperation you usually leave me with. I’m not - I’m getting better at dealing with my anger. Or I thought I was, obviously I’ve still got a way to go. But if you want to stay - with me - then… It’s find. I’m cool with it. Really.”

Xerox smiled slowly. “Okay, then I’ll stay. Uh, kissing, though? Yes or no?” 

Jackson shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Uh. Let - let me think on it?”

“Okay.” Xerox repeated. “Were you on your way somewhere, or just going for a walk?” 

“I… was heading home, actually.” Jackson murmured. “Which… I mean, if you’re going to be living with me, you should… probably see.”

“Yeah. Lead the way, then. I’m going to follow you and probably stare at your ass a little.” Xerox smirked, gesturing for Jackson to go ahead of him. 

Jackson froze, blinking rapidly, but turned and started walking. It wasn’t possible for Stiles to have changed so much that he would be so upfront about a physical attraction to him, was it? His perception of the other teen was throwing him off and he wasn’t sure how to feel - but a part of him, the vain part, couldn’t help preening at the other boy’s attention.

Xerox felt stronger as he walked behind Jackson, the teenager’s mixed emotions feeding him for the first time in days. He stood up straight and grinned to himself. 

Jackson glanced over his shoulder at the other teen multiple times as they walked, right up until they arrived in front of the terraced brick house. Jackson unlocked the front door and stepped back to let Stiles in first.

Xerox nodded in appreciation and walked in, whistling as he looked around. “Holy shit, this is awesome.” He blurted, hoping he sounded more like his carbon copy. 

Jackson straightened a little, unable to keep himself from looking pleased. His lips turned up into a smirk. “I know it is.”

“So are you like, one of those true European kids now?” Xerox teased. “Do you live alone?” 

“Why should I live with my parents?” Jackson pointed out. “I don’t need to. I own the flat. People here have legal rights at sixteen, I mean, they can start a fucking family if they want to, so I figure I can live on my own.”

Xerox tilted his head, sticking his hands in his back pockets as he looked around again. “Not on your own, anymore.” He commented. 

Jackson cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess not.” He shut the door behind him and started up the stairs. “Uh, so… I’m guessing you have your clothes in a storage locker or something, but uh… your room is right here.” He waved a hand at the first one they approached.

Xerox opened the door and glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. “Thank you.” He nodded, his eyes narrowing at how foreign the words felt. “I need some time, but... I’ll go get my stuff later and maybe figure out dinner for us?” 

“Yeah.” Jackson nodded. “Uh. In the meantime, if you think you need to change your clothes or something, I’ve got spare stuff that you can wear. If you want.”

Xerox wasn’t sure what was going on, but his nails and teeth lengthened and his vision changed again. “Yeah.” He nodded. “That sounds good.” 

Jackson froze, staring back at the other teen, his chin jutting up and his eyes narrowing. “Wanna tell me what’s got you wolfing out?” He asked, his own eyes glowing in response.

“The idea of borrowing your clothes.” Xerox remarked. “It’s good. Feels...” He paused, searching for the right word. “Warm?” 

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “Okay.” He said, his head tilting to the side. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but that pleased feeling was coming back. His lips twitched a little. “Well, then. Let’s… get you warm.”

Xerox grinned. “Okay.” He nodded. He didn’t know if he liked this feeling, even as it made him pleased. He resolved to go out and slaughter a few people before he stole some clothes to bring back to Jackson’s house. 

Jackson cleared his throat and cautiously led the way into his bedroom, glancing back at Stiles once. “Um, this is my room. Obviously. There’s only two in the whole house. You can come get me whenever you need me. If you need me.”

“Okay.” Xerox sat down on Jackson’s bed, then made a startled noise and laid back on the mattress. 

“That’s… my bed.” Jackson said slowly, staring at Stiles and blinking.

“Yeah, and it’s nice. Why do you even get up to go anywhere?” 

A smile threatened to crawl onto Jackson’s lips. “Well, you see, I’m human-ish. I still need to eat. That sort of requires leaving my house to get food.”

“Oh right, that.” Xerox smiled. He laid there for a few more seconds, then got up and started looking around the room. 

Jackson busied himself at the dresser, pulling out a shirt and a pair of jeans that he thought might fit Stiles before setting them on the bed. “Hey.” He looked at Stiles, patting the clothes. “If those don’t fit, let me know. I’m going to go get your room set up.”

“No problem.” The nogitsune smiled and took his shirt off, then unfastened the jeans he had been wearing. He pushed them down his hips, tugging his underwear back up into place when it was pulled down a little with the denim. 

Jackson spun around, refusing to look, and then high-tailed it out of the room. “Okay, see ya!” He called behind him.

Xerox smiled to himself. He knew that what he had done was a little over the top, but he didn’t think it would be that big of a deal since Stiles and Jackson had changed clothes around each other all the time, in the school locker rooms at Beacon Hills. He got dressed, walking over to the mirror and eyeing his reflection. He wondered what Stiles was doing and if the boy would be horrified or jealous at what Xerox was planning to do with Jackson. 

***

Stiles had gone to bed early, the night before. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that Xerox was missing and had run away from Beacon Hills. If a check-in with the pack and his dad didn’t turn up any new information, he would go talk to Peter himself. He took a hot shower, shivering until the water warmed him up, and he struggled a little to get dressed because his muscles were still hurting him, but he made it downstairs to the kitchen without too much trouble, taking a couple of painkillers and putting some bread into the toaster. ‘Any word on Xerox?’ He sent the message to everyone in the pack. 

‘Nothing on my end.’ Scott replied. ‘I didn’t catch his scent anywhere along this side of town, and I asked around to see if anyone had spotted him. I don’t think he even set foot around here.’

Allison’s text came in next. ‘Someone spotted a guy that looks like you wandering around the bus station, but no one can tell me or Derek where they saw him go.’

‘Sorry I didn’t check in with you guys yesterday, I didn’t have any bank activity and I fell asleep.’ Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if they would take that as proof that he wasn’t fit to lead them. ‘I’ll talk to Peter in a little while. I’m having breakfast, first.’ 

‘Take your time.’ Derek replied. ‘If you want, Allison and I can check in with your dad and see what he and Parrish found out.’

Stiles decided not to comment on the fact that their teams from the day before hadn’t changed. ‘Sounds good, hope to hear from you soon.’ He spread butter on the toast, putting a piece in his mouth and carrying the other one with him, out to the Jeep. He knew what building Peter lived in, but wasn’t sure about which apartment was his. He drove downtown, going into the building and checking the mailbox listings to figure out which apartment belonged to the older werewolf. 

An older woman was passing through the lobby with a tiny white Maltese on the leash in front of her. She peered curiously at Stiles as she passed. “Are you looking for someone, dear?”

“Actually, yes. Peter Hale.” Stiles murmured. “He said he lives in this building, but a few of these boxes aren’t labeled.” 

The woman’s eyes lit in recognition. “Ah, Peter. Yes, he does live in this building. Some of the boxes aren’t labeled because we have a couple of people living here that just haven’t really gotten around to it.” She tugged gently on the leash when the Maltese wandered closer to Stiles and started to wind around his legs. “Penny, no, come here.” She looked up at Stiles. “Peter actually lives on my floor. He’s in apartment three-nineteen on the fourth floor at the very end of the hall. There’s a large stained glass window right outside his apartment door, you can’t miss it.”

Stiles felt confused by the strange numbering system, but he went over to the elevator and took it up to the fourth floor, looking for three-nineteen.

The door at the end of the hallway next to the stained glass window opened sharply, and Peter appeared over the threshold, looking annoyed. “No.”

“You don’t even know why I’m here, you dumbass.” Stiles protested, laughing. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Fine. Stiles, why are you here?” He replied with a fake smile.

“Because I want you to go find the nogitsune and kill it.” Stiles explained. “It’ll be easier, he’s weakened because he’s part werewolf now. He’s not in town anymore. I don’t know where he is, specifically, just not here. If I’m right, he’s in London right about now. The only person I know outside of this town is Jackson, and that’s where Jackson is. Or was, last I knew.” 

“You want me to travel to London and kill the fox creature, and my payment is putting up with Jackson Whittemore?” Peter said, blinking languidly at Stiles.

“I didn’t say you had to do anything with Jackson.” Stiles protested. “You find Jackson, you find Xerox. Kill the spare like a good little lackey and don’t bring me back his head, and that’s it.” He sighed. “Obviously, you could go away for a couple of weeks and come back, and not have done it, and I wouldn’t know the difference.” He pointed out. “But you would, and I think your ego is just this side of too big to let something loose that someone else actually wants you to murder.” 

Peter sighed. “I suppose if I’m predisposed to murder and someone actually wants me to do it, it would be remiss of me to not follow through with the task. Damn you.”

Stiles grinned. He knew better than to tell Peter that he was the alpha of the pack now, since he didn’t want to die. “Thank you.” He murmured, nodding. 

Scoffing, Peter waved a hand at him. “Don’t thank me. I’m doing this because - well, because it’s letting me do something I enjoy. Not to mention the recognition I would get for killing a creature as old as that. Would’ve been better if he was at full power and not a half-creature like he is now, but still.”

“Yeah, sorry that we decided to make the immortal killing machine mortal and killable.” Stiles snorted. 

“I would have found a way around it.” Peter glowered. “At the very least, I’m getting that chance now, despite the fact that what I’m going to be killing is a shadow of his former self.”

Stiles nodded, rubbing his eye and yawning, despite the amount of sleep he got the night before. “Okay.” He murmured. “Good talk. See you.” 

Peter looked at him in amusement. “Yes. Goodbye, Stiles.”

Stiles walked away, going back to the elevator. He sent a text to the pack as he waited for the doors to open and let him on. ‘Talked to Peter. He’s going to London.’ 

Lydia was the first to respond. ‘Why would the nogitsune go bother Jackson? Isn’t that just an incentive for us to kill him, which he said he doesn’t want?’ 

Stiles bit his lip. ‘I have no idea.’ It was a lie, but not a malicious one. He didn’t feel like explaining that he was bisexual and had frequent dreams and fantasies about people he spent time around during the past year. 

‘Well, we’ll figure it out. Should we get in contact with Jackson and give him a heads up?’ Allison asked. 

‘Yeah.’ Stiles replied, getting into the elevator and slumping against one wall. Talking to Peter had been daunting, but there was no way he would admit to that. ‘Let him know what’s been going on and tell him to expect Peter’s arrival. It should come from you or Lyds, since Jackson wouldn’t listen to the rest of us.’

‘Lydia and I will talk and figure out exactly what we should say.’ Allison assured him. ‘We’ll see you later?’

‘Sure, come by whenever. I’ll be at home.’ Stiles trudged out to the parking lot and got into the Jeep, driving himself home. He still felt exhausted. It had been two or three days since Xerox left him to himself, and he knew that he would need time to recover, but he hated feeling weak. He went into the house and looked through the kitchen, trying to find something he could eat that would help him regain his strength faster. 

“Hey, kiddo.” John greeted Stiles as he walked in a few minutes later, looking drained. “Remember how they always say that no news is good news? Well… I’ve got news. And it’s the opposite kind.” He set an eight-pack of Gatorade down on the table, and then a bag full of groceries next to it before he started unpacking it. “But first, I’m going to do something I haven’t done in awhile, and I’m going to cook for you.” He smiled a little. “And no, it’s not going to be steaks on a grill.”

Stiles nodded, sitting down at the table and looking up at his dad. “What is it?” He rested his chin on his hand, blinking. 

John exhaled slowly, tugging a Gatorade bottle free and setting it down in front of Stiles. “I have reports from Redding of a boy that looks strikingly similar to you purchasing a flight out of Redding to London, England. A woman also had her credit card stolen, coincidentally around the same time that the ticket was purchased.” He furrowed his brows. “Not sure how the hell he got out of the damn country without a passport, but he did it.”

“Chaos.” Stiles muttered. “I figured he was there. I mean, not to scare you or anything, but if I had no other choice, that’s where I’d go. Because Jackson’s probably the only person who would help me, despite the years of bullshit.” He said candidly. “I’ve kind of had a busy couple of days.” He opened the bottle of Gatorade and took a drink. “I told Scott to back off and let me run things. At least for a little while.” 

“How’d he take that?” John asked, absently brushing his fingers over the top of Stiles’ head before he started throwing a meal together, setting chicken breasts and plastic wrap on the counter before he sliced the meat open, settled more plastic wrap on top of it and started pounding it thin.

“Not so well, at first.” Stiles admitted. “He thought that Derek was pressuring me into the idea of it. The reality is, it sort of was for Derek, but not like that. Scott has been treating Derek like shit and he doesn’t deserve it. Sure, his methods were crap and I told him that, too. But he’s not that much older than me and he had a lot of bad stuff happen to him, so he was scared. I know that. Scott couldn’t see it. I just want to get healthier so I can be a good alpha.” 

“That’s why we’re going to get a good meal in you.” John agreed, nodding. “Chicken parmesan and lots of pasta. Meat, cheese, carbs. I do have to say, though, that you stepping up to take over from Scott, I kinda think you’re already on your way there.”

“Yeah? How so?” Stiles looked intrigued. “I didn’t know I was going to do it until I did it. I would’ve recommended Lydia. In fact, I did. Derek thought it should be me. I said I’d run it by everyone. Lydia didn’t want it. If she had, she would have said so.” 

“I think Derek’s got a lot of faith in you then, if that was his reaction to you suggesting Lydia. But to put it simply, I think you’re recovering well because you stepped up. If you’d had the chance to take over before the nogitsune, would you have?”

Stiles shook his head. “Not a chance. I still don’t know if it was the right thing. But it feels pretty good, anyway.” 

John smiled at him. “I bet. And I’m glad.” He tossed flour, egg and breadcrumbs into separate bowls, and then drenched the pounded chicken in each bowl before setting them into a glass baking dish and putting the whole thing into the oven. While he waited, he started gathering the cheese and tomato sauce, then readied a pot for the pasta.

“You’re glad?” Stiles repeated. “That I’m in charge of a wolf pack?” 

“I’m glad that it feels good.” John clarified. “You taking charge. I’ve always thought you’d be a hell of a leader. God knows you led me and your mom on wild goose chases often enough when you were younger. I don’t know that I’m necessarily glad that you’re at the head of a wolf pack, but, well. Wolves look to their leader. And I gotta figure that fact that Derek stepped up and flat out told you he’d want you to lead, the only one of those kids that’s ever been in a proper pack, and that not everyone else seemed to protest it is a good sign.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “It’s different. I don’t know if it’s right. I’m just kind of...” He shrugged. “I did something today. Uh, I sent Peter Hale off to look for the nogitsune. Or omega wolf, or whatever he is. He’s not in the pack, but... it’s something he can do.” 

John paused as he was putting the pasta into the pot, glancing back at Stiles. “And is Peter… being sent after the nogitsune for a reason? Or is that the sort of thing that I’m better off not asking about?”

“To kill him.” Stiles said bluntly, feeling so much older than sixteen. “Scott made him weaker by biting him, so he’s part werewolf now, and he can be contained by mountain ash or suffer the effects of wolfsbane. If he went to Jackson, he’s probably trying to build a pack, even though I don’t think that he knows that. He might. He’s basically me, you know? I mean, all of the memories, up until he split us. I’m kind of hoping that his new human side kicks his ass.” 

“You mean, floods him with a guilty conscience and feelings and weakens him even further to the point that Peter can get a real good shot in?” John asked, grabbing an oven mitt and reaching into the oven to pull the chicken out. He liberally added pasta sauce and cheese - and then added more cheese - before putting the pan back into the oven.

Stiles laughed. “Yeah. I guess he’s not really human. Just a nogitsune with typical werewolf allergies and he can probably be bisected now.” 

“Christ,” John muttered. “Really glad England isn’t in my jurisdiction.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “Think how I feel. If Peter doesn’t hide the body, I might have to be declared legally dead.” 

John’s eyes bulged slightly, and his head jerked around to look at his son. “If Peter doesn’t hide the body, he won’t have a body when he comes back.”

Stiles laughed. “I’ll help.” 

“That’s my boy.” John smiled. He drained the pasta and divided it up, piling it onto two plates with the leftover pasta sauce, then waited until he knew that the chicken was finished before pulling it out and piling it onto the plates. He slid one in front of Stiles, then took a seat, grabbed a Gatorade for himself and bobbed his head at his son. “Dig in, kiddo.”

Stiles started eating, glancing up at his dad and smiling. “I’m having everyone come over tonight.” He nodded to his dad. “Because I think Scott’s method of delegating in a time of crisis was necessary, but that doesn’t make us a pack, it makes us... EMTs.” He snorted. “Or something like that.” 

John snorted, too. “Well, his mother is the head nurse at the hospital so there’s probably a reason for that. Alright, so everyone is coming over. Should I move the living room around and make space?”

“It probably wouldn't be a bad idea.” Stiles mused. “At least just the coffee table. I think we can all fit on the couch and the floor, after that.” 

“Then it can wait until they get here.” John bobbed his head, taking a bite of chicken, cheese, sauce and pasta all at once and groaning. “God, this is good.”

Stiles laughed again. “Don’t get used to it, I’m going to be back to my full health soon and then I’m controlling your diet again.” 

John sulked, then tilted his head, peering down at the chicken. “Then I am going to savor this,” he said, and cut another piece off achingly slowly.

**

A few hours after their dinner-for-breakfast, Stiles waited for the pack members to get to his house. He had done a few push-ups, just to keep himself from feeling too weak, but they had left him a little winded and he figured ten was plenty, so he stopped. 

Derek hesitated, lingering in the living room with his eyes on Stiles. His concern for the teen was making him feel overwhelmed, and that in turn was frustrating him, which in turn was making him feel guilty. He didn’t want to move until he knew Stiles was okay. “Hey.” He murmured. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m still kind of tired.” Stiles admitted. “I wish everyone would hurry the fuck up and get here, because if they take even ten more minutes and I’m asleep, that’s just going to prove that I can’t handle this and I don’t want to give up yet.” 

“You can handle this.” Derek shook his head. “And I won’t let you give it up. I’ve got faith in you, and I know you can do this, Stiles.” He rubbed a hand over Stiles’ back. “Sit down. If you fall asleep, you fall asleep, okay? I’ll just wake you up. And in the meantime, I’m going to text the hell out of everyone until they get here.”

Stiles nodded, smiling faintly. He sat down on the couch and turned the tv on, tilting his head back against the back of the couch and letting his eyes close a moment later. 

Derek followed through on his promise to Stiles, sitting down beside him as he mass-texted the pack, requesting their ETAs.

‘Oh my god, dude, we’re on our way, we’re almost there I swear.’ Scott texted back promptly.

A few more minutes passed before Lydia opened the front door and walked into Stiles’ house, going over to the living room couch and turning to press her index finger against her lips, once she was certain Stiles was asleep. 

Derek raised an eyebrow at her. “I told him I’d wake him when you guys got here.” He said quietly.

“Then you’d probably better do that.” Lydia nodded. “We’ll go back outside until he’s awake. Just say something and Scott will tell us when.” She started ushering everyone back outside. 

Derek watched until Lydia was out, then turned to Stiles, ducking his head a little as he gently shook the teen’s shoulder. “Hey,” he murmured. “Stiles, wake up. I can hear everyone coming.”

Stiles sat up suddenly, then was on his feet and blinking wildly as he tried to wake up. “Damn it!” He blurted. He stretched his arms over his head and heard his back pop, sighing. “I feel like I could still sleep for a month.” 

Derek smiled faintly. “Why don’t you and your dad talk about maybe taking a vacation once school is over? Or a… those vacations where you really just stay at home. Get more rest that way. It won’t be much longer now, will it?”

“About three more weeks until Christmas vacation.” Stiles agreed. “Maybe we should go somewhere, yeah. I don’t know. I probably can’t leave, being alpha now and all, right? Not unless the whole pack comes too? I don’t know the rules.” 

“If you go, then yeah, someone has to stay behind and keep an eye on the town.” Derek nodded. “Unprotected town without an alpha in residence tends to make things go to hell in a handbasket really fast. But if some people go with you and you delegate someone as acting alpha while you’re gone, it should be alright. My mother used to go to conferences for alphas all the time - not all of them were held here, and while she was gone, acting alpha would usually fall back on my grandmother or my aunt.”

“Then, if I go, I guess... I could have Lydia in charge.” Stiles mused. “I feel like she’s the one more likely to make the tough decisions, after me. Not that you wouldn’t, just... um.” He looked embarrassed. “I feel like a complete dick when I talk about this, so let’s not, right?” He yawned. “I’m going to get something else to eat while we wait for them to come in, okay?” He wandered off to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

Derek nodded, and then murmured quietly to Scott. “He’s awake and getting food. Come on in.”

Lydia led the way back into the house, sitting down on the couch and wrinkling her nose at the tv. She changed the channel, glancing toward the kitchen. 

Allison moved closer and took a seat on the couch, glancing at Derek warily. “Is he alright? How is he?”

“Tired.” Derek replied quietly. “But he’s up and moving, so…”

“So we treat this like any other day.” Lydia smiled faintly. “And one of you should go into the kitchen to see if he needs help, because that’s what he’d do for us.” 

“I’ll go.” Isaac said carefully after a moment. He stood up and wandered toward the kitchen, looking at the other boy. “Hey. Uh. Can I help you with anything? Carry something?”

Stiles ducked his head, turning away from Isaac as he chewed and swallowed. “No.” He muttered. “I’ll be right there, I just need to wash my hands and face.” 

Isaac shifted in place, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll - um, if you need me, I’ll be…” He trailed off, making a face. “Well, here.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “Um. I’ll be fine. Just go back in the living room, okay?” He kept his back to Isaac. 

“If you’re sure.” Isaac said, sighing, before turning and walking back into the living room. He glanced at the others and shrugged. “Said he’d be right in.”

Stiles grimaced as he hurriedly washed his hands and face. When he had opened the fridge, he hadn’t been sure what he wanted, but he saw raw steak and had grabbed it like he was starving. By the time that Isaac had come to check on him, he was more than halfway done with the meat and mortified. He dried his face with a towel, wiping his hands on his jeans as he went back into the living room. 

Derek watched him closely, his nostrils flaring gently as he tilted his head to the side. A quick glance at Scott and Isaac indicated that neither noticed anything out of the ordinary, and he certainly wasn’t going to say anything. He didn’t know what it was about Stiles that seemed to be changing, but he promised himself that he’d be there for the other teen, regardless of what happened.

Allison smiled up at Stiles when she saw him. “Hey!” She greeted, taking in the color in his cheeks. “You’re looking better!”

“Yeah, I’ve been eating a lot more today.” Stiles remarked. “Which has got to be better than starving myself, you know? Well, not myself. Being starved, I guess.” He shrugged. “I had chicken and pasta and a ridiculous amount of cheese. And Gatorade. I’m going to regret it tomorrow.” 

“No, don’t.” Lydia protested. “Take advantage of being able to eat a lot of junk food right now.” She smiled. “We’re all glad that you’re okay.” 

Stiles smiled back hesitantly. “Okay, let’s just get through this important stuff. Did anyone call Jackson and tell him to watch out for the thing wearing my face?” 

Allison nodded. “Yeah, I did. He didn’t sound very thankful, but… Well, he still thanked me at least.” She glanced at Lydia. “You can talk to him next time.”

Lydia laughed. “If he wants anything to do with any of us, considering we didn’t warn him immediately. Verification was necessary, whether he wants to believe that or not.” 

“Then that’s all I’ve got.” Stiles snorted. “That was the hard part. At least, outside of school. How are you guys doing, academically? Do we need to schedule study sessions or something?” 

Lydia gave Stiles a withering look. “My grades haven’t suffered, if that’s what you mean.” 

“I’m doing okay.” Allison said. “Nothing seems to be taking a drastic nose dive, anyway. It’s mostly As and Bs.”

Scott answered after thinking for a moment, grimacing. “English and Chemistry are kicking my ass. Everything else is alright.”

“Okay, so we’ll make sure you have help in English and Chem.” Stiles smiled at his best friend. “It would probably help to arrange a schedule for you, as far as that goes. Since you’re busy with working for Deaton, still. I don’t know what my grades are like right now. I'm probably going to be doing a ton of extra credit work to make up for the past few weeks.” 

Allison smiled at him gently. “Well, then, you’ve got help, too.” She told him, nodding. “From all of us.”

Stiles smiled back. “Thank you.” He glanced at Lydia. “Are we watching a movie?”

“I was just trying to find something other than ESPN.” Lydia shrugged. 

“Put in a movie!” Scott urged, scrambling toward Lydia. “We could watch an action flick.”

“I want to watch something more light-hearted. Like Definitely Maybe.” Lydia glanced at Allison and Kira, hoping for back-up.

“The Matrix has action scenes and romance.” Stiles suggested. 

“That ridiculous orgy in the second film isn’t romantic.” Lydia scoffed. “Besides, when the rest of the world says ‘a movie,’ they don’t mean a series of them. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have pushed for the sequels.”

“Lydia.” Stiles smiled patiently, like he was talking to a child. “It was a celebration because the soldiers had returned home.”

“Mainstream porn.” Lydia argued. 

Stiles smirked. “Which you’ve watched. At least one time.”

Lydia faltered. “Die Hard?” She asked, her voice slightly high-pitched. 

“Too early for Christmas movies.” Stiles turned toward the other pack members, weighing his options. “Allison, pick a movie.”

Allison studied everyone silently for a long moment before saying, “You now have three choices: Sleepy Hollow with Johnny Depp, Red Riding Hood with Amanda Seyfried, or…” she paused dramatically, glancing at Lydia with a twitch of her lips. “Practical Magic.”

Lydia grinned. “Practical Magic.” She nodded. “I will fight anyone who tries to suggest something else. Don’t test me.” 

Derek’s lips curled up. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Scott held his hands up defensively. “Uh, Practical Magic. I’m good with that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before, it should be cool.” He paused, and then looked at Stiles uncertainly. “Right?”

“Yeah, I’m interested.” Stiles smiled. He got up again while Lydia looked for the movie, going into the kitchen to make popcorn and open bags of chips and pretzels, to pour into bowls. 

Derek stepped into the kitchen, silently helping Stiles without being asked. After a moment, he touched Stiles’ elbow gently and asked, his voice as low as he could make it, “Did something happen earlier?”

Stiles sighed. He knew he could lie, he was good at it and had practiced on Scott, but he wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Being responsible for everyone, the way he had promised to do, meant he had to let them know if he was a threat. “I ate raw meat.” He made a face, knowing that Scott and Isaac could hear him. “I know that it’s not too unusual, people do it all the time, but it wasn’t like I was planning on it. I opened the fridge and kind of lost my mind, I guess?” 

Derek furrowed his brows, ignoring the squawk of surprise that came from Scott in the living room. “I don’t think you lost your mind.” He said quietly, shaking his head. “I’m not sure what’s been going on with you, but maybe this has more to do with why you’ve been so tired lately? For all I know, this could be base instinct kicking in to get your health back up.” He paused and then grimaced at himself. “I know it’s a longshot.”

“It’s all we’ve got right now.” Stiles agreed, nodding. “I don’t think it’s a problem unless I start craving human flesh or something. Or if I only want raw meat. I don’t. Popcorn sounds pretty damned good right now.” 

“So does that mean I can hoard the bag of Doritos and you won’t lunge at me like I’ve kidnapped your puppy?” Derek teased, smiling.

“I’ll take two of them, and you can have the bag after that.” Stiles grinned. “It’s good to have an appetite, right?” 

“Absolutely.” Derek grinned, clapping his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles poured popcorn into bowls, taking his time because he knew that the second he went back into the living room, he’d have to meet Scott’s gaze and deal with that. 

“Don’t worry about him.” Derek said softly, correctly understanding why Stiles was delaying. “He says one word about it, or looks at you wrong once, and…” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “We’ll talk to Lydia. He seems to be scared of her.”

Stiles grinned. “And _that_ is why she’s my second.” He grabbed a few bowls, bringing them into the living room and handing them out. He sat down in the seat he’d been in before, glancing around at everyone. He missed Erica and knew that without Boyd, things wouldn’t be complete, even with the blonde back in their lives. He bit his lip. “Allison? When you get the chance to get me a copy, I want to read through the bestiary.” 

Allison looked up at him, and then nodded. “Sure, absolutely. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Thanks.” Stiles murmured. He nudged Lydia. “Start the movie.” 

Scott was watching Stiles silently, looking like his stomach was churning. He squirmed in his seat a little and started to open his mouth.

Derek’s hand immediately flew up and clamped over it. “No.”

Scott looked at him in protest. His, “But I-” was muffled against Derek’s hand, and he squeaked when Derek pressed harder. 

“I said no.”

Stiles laughed softly. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Scott, shut up and watch.” 

“But-”

“Scott, I swear to all that is good and right and holy…” Derek glanced down at him. “I will leave you at Lydia’s mercy.”

Scott’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked at Lydia in alarm. “You wouldn’t.”

“Scott.” Lydia paused the movie and glared at him. “If you can’t stop talking, get out.” 

Scott sat back. “I’ll be quiet.” He whispered meekly.

Derek turned to watch the tv, pausing only to wink at Stiles as he did.

Stiles smiled back at Derek. He settled in to watch the movie, entranced by the way that the dark-haired girl swore to never fall in love, while the red-haired girl was looking forward to it. He glanced over at Lydia and Allison, then looked back at the tv screen, thinking. 

Allison sighed softly, leaning back against the couch and smiling. She pressed her shoulder against Lydia’s, grinning softly at her best friend.

Lydia grinned back at Allison. She knew that Stiles and Scott had some Batman and Robin thing, but this was hers and Allison’s. She mouthed some of the lines, feeling nostalgic for days that they had yet to experience. 

Allison’s hand shook a little when Gillian left Massachusetts and met Jimmy, and then snapped out to grab Lydia’s tightly when Sally’s husband was killed. She’d seen the movie dozens of times before - she and Lydia both had - but she still reacted every time like it was the first time she was watching. She faceplanted in Lydia’s shoulder, hiding her face.

Lydia put her arm around Allison, glancing around quickly, her expression making it clear that if anyone said a word about Allison’s reaction, they would have to deal with her. 

Kira snuggled closer to Scott, smiling softly at him. 

Scott wound his arms around Kira, looking up briefly to catch Lydia’s gaze. He gave her a tentative smile, before gazing back down at Kira. His smile widened, and he lowered his head to press a kiss to the side of her head.

Kira’s smile widened and she sighed happily, more interested in holding Scott’s hand than watching the movie. 

Scott leaned back against the couch, pulling Kira against his chest with a contented sigh.

Stiles made a face, looking around for a moment before he went back to watching the movie. He squirmed a little, feeling unsettled, though he didn’t know why. 

Derek glanced down at the floor where Isaac was pressing his shoulder into Derek’s leg, solely for the contact. He looked up and studied Scott and Kira, before looking at Allison and Lydia, and then finally Stiles. He hesitated, and then reached across the space between them, tapping Stiles’ elbow once more. “C’mere.” He said quietly, shifting one space over and jostling Isaac, who grumbled and repositioned himself. He patted the open seat, then smiled crookedly. “Let’s get you away from… that.” He gestured at the other four in amusement.

Stiles laughed quietly and moved to sit beside Derek. “Thanks.” He whispered. 

“No problem.” Derek replied. “Here to help.”

When the movie ended, Lydia turned toward everyone. “Maybe that’s what we should do.” She gestured to the tv. 

“What? Make a movie? Kill an abusive drunk?” Stiles teased. “Open a store that sells lotion?”

“No, you idiot.” Lydia shook her head. “Love spells. Or anti-love spells. Something. It wouldn’t even have to be that. Just... some way to know that our futures are more... secure.” 

“You’re more than welcome to.” Derek said quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t mess with magic. Ever.”

“I think it could be interesting.” Stiles murmured. “I mean, I made a line of mountain ash out of nothing.” 

Isaac raised a hand. “I’d be interested in knowing.” He said, glancing back at Derek and Stiles, shrugging.

Scott glanced at Kira questioningly. “What about you?” He asked.

Kira shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me.” 

That seemed to be good enough for Scott. He was curious about any potential spells or anti-spells, but not at risk of his relationship with Kira. He nodded and smiled at her. “Okay.”

Lydia smiled at Allison. “Yes or no?” 

Allison grinned back at the redhead fondly. “Oh, you already know the answer.” She laughed.

“I still wanted to hear it!” Lydia laughed and got up from the couch. “I don’t think we need a whole lot of things.” She shrugged. “But I’m willing to look it up.” 

“Or you guys could go to the store and I could text you a list.” Stiles suggested. “Would that be easier?”

Allison stood up as well, glancing at Lydia. “I’d be willing to drive.” She offered, shrugging a shoulder.

Lydia glanced at Isaac. “Are you coming with us, or staying here?” 

Isaac blinked, and then rose to his feet, nodding. “Sure, yeah. Absolutely.” He paused. “Come with you, I mean. I’m coming with you.”

Lydia smiled. “Okay.” She put her coat on and walked outside. 

Stiles went into his room to look up a few things. 

Derek followed Stiles up the stairs, then peered out of Stiles’ window, watching Lydia. “What is it that you think you’ll need?” He asked him.

“Rose petals.” Stiles mused. “Water from the creek, out in the Preserve. Maybe candles or stones, depending. I’ve, um, looked up this stuff before.” He admitted, blushing a little. “I never did anything with it, though. I just wanted to know, just in case. I don’t have to actually Google it, I have a whole database on my computer already.” He looked up at Derek, then out through the window. “Interesting.” He started a text to Lydia, Allison and Isaac. ‘Ingredients: water from the Preserve. Roses - white for chastity (anti-love), yellow for friendship, orange for passion and energy (I want this), lavender for love at first sight.’ He skipped two lines and continued the text. ‘Rose quartz stones are optional, and not recommended for anti-love. One petal per trait you want or don’t want. Little candles in white or pink.’ 

Derek pulled away from the window and walked back to Stiles, leaning over his shoulder as he read over the ingredients. “Specific.” He murmured, and then glanced at the teen. “Why, uh… why did you look it up before, really? I mean, just in case, I know, but… just in case of what?”

“In case of anything, really. I wasn’t just looking this up. I was actually trying to find other things. But I won’t lie, it was kind of appealing, you know? The idea that somebody might wake up and notice me. I mean, the only person who ever wanted me was just looking for sex and then she got murdered before anything happened?” Stiles made a face. “I said it wrong, I don’t mean it like that. Uh, I’ve... I’m not saying it out loud. There have just been certain, you know, situations where I thought... that I might die without ever having been in a relationship.” 

Derek folded his hands and sat down, looking a little unhappy. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think that’ll ever happen to you. You’re still coming into your own. But you’ve…” The tips of his ears went a little red. “You’ve got appeal. And I don’t think you really need that spell, because I do believe that someone’s going to turn around one day, take a look at you and think that… well, that you’re the one for them.”

“Right.” Stiles murmured. “But then, if that’s true? It won’t hurt for me to do this, right? But anyway. I believe in a lot of things. I believed that Scott was a werewolf when he was just convinced he was bitten by a harmless wolf. I believed that Lydia wasn’t the kanima. I don’t believe that I stand a chance of finding someone without a little bit of help.” He sighed. “This is going to sound shitty, and I don’t want you to think...” He grimaced, shaking his head. “You’ve been with people. It’s easy for you to say ‘don’t worry, your time is coming,’ because you’ve done that already. I’m sixteen and I’ve come close to death at least that many times, just this year alone. From what I’ve seen, there’s no real chance for me. I know a lot of that is the fact that I was focused on Lydia and not looking at the rest of the world. I know that another factor is that I’m, uh, kind of an asshole. But I just...” He took a deep breath. “I just want one night where I can think that maybe something could be different for me.” 

Derek was silent for a long time, and then coughed softly. “Two.” He mumbled. “I’ve… been with two people. And when it happened, it seemed like everything I ever wanted. But it wasn’t, it was just…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “It was rape. Both times. I was raped. My time hasn’t come yet because it was taken from me.” He didn’t think as he reached out and slid his hand around Stiles’, squeezing gently. “I’ve gotta have hope that your time is going to come, because you deserve it.”

Stiles got up and hugged Derek. “I definitely feel like a douchebag.” He muttered. “Are you sure you don’t want to do this, too?” 

Derek sighed softly, hugging Stiles back. “Don’t feel like a douchebag.” He said first, shaking his head. “You’re not. You can be an ass, but you don’t need to feel like a douchebag about this. You weren’t aware. And… honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure I do. A part of me is curious, but… Magic messed with my head. I know this type of magic isn’t the same as what was used on me, but I can’t bring myself to…”

“Yeah, I get it.” Stiles nodded. He went into the kitchen a couple of minutes later, setting a stack of small notebooks on the table. He picked up one with a red cover and thought for a minute. His love spell was going to be a combination of things, he decided, because he wasn’t sure what the hell he wanted, overall. ‘Someone who won’t give up on me. Someone who eats ice cream in winter, outside. Favorite place is a library. This person will want me from first sight, intensely. Loves the forest.’ He licked his lips, thinking about how the past year had gone, and then all of the years before that. ‘He or she will be reluctant to leave me, no matter what.’ He thought about the movie, then added. ‘Favorite shape will be a heart, but the real thing, not the Valentine’s Day one.’ 

Lydia walked in a few minutes later, draping her coat over the back of a chair and setting a bag of supplies on the table. She smiled at the sight of the little notebooks and pens, picking up one of each and sitting down across from Stiles. ‘I want someone who will challenge me, intellectually. He’ll love St. Patrick’s Day. He’ll be taller than five-foot-eight, but shorter than six-foot-two. He’ll be in an art museum when fate puts us together, though he doesn’t have to be new to my life. He likes bowling. He’ll be compassionate. His favorite place in the world will be Boston.’ She pressed her lips together as she wrote the last thing; she hadn’t told her friends yet, but she didn’t want to go to college in California. MIT had always been her goal. She wondered if she should add that, then decided that her perfect guy wouldn’t attend MIT at all, so she wrote ‘He won’t attend MIT’. It wasn’t that she wanted to rule out everyone from that college, she just didn’t want to limit herself to it. 

Allison moved into the room and smiled down at Stiles and Lydia, squeezing their shoulders gently before retrieving a notebook and pen of her own. She thought for a long moment before deciding to write. ‘They’ll be just as competitive as me, but won’t let it get in the way of a relationship. When we meet, it won’t be romance and fireworks - it’ll happen with a genuine connection, even if it starts off with an argument. They’ll be clever and full of laughter, and maybe a little bristly at first, but they’ll be genuinely kind, with a big heart, but they definitely won’t have a problem putting me in my place when they know I’m out of line.’ She thought for a moment longer, and then added, ‘I won’t be able to tell what color their eyes are when we meet, because when it happens, it’ll be summer and the sun will be in mine.’

Isaac looked a little more hesitant as he approached the table, taking his own pen and notebook in hand. Clearing his throat, he put the pen to paper. ‘She’ll be reckless and kind of rude, but lively in a way that shows that she loves her life. But she’ll love me for who - and what - I am and it’ll never be faked.’ He tried to think of anything else to put down, but the last thing he’d written stuck out in his mind, and he couldn’t bring himself to put down anything else - he’d already written out what was most important to him.

Stiles stood up and silently grabbed orange rose petals, one for each trait he had written down in his notebook. He reached up and plucked a few hairs from his head, putting them into a bowl, along with his rose petals and a few drops of water from the creek. He smiled, carrying the bowl up the stairs to his room and setting it aside while he opened his window. He climbed out onto the roof, reaching back in for the bowl with the spell ingredients. 

Lydia followed Stiles out, her little bowl containing a few drops of blood on top of lavender rose petals. She had a band-aid on her index finger and a rueful smile on her face as she sat on the other side of the window, leaving space for Allison and Isaac to join them. “I think we should keep the notebooks with us at all times, and use them as our personal spell books.” She murmured. 

“If I do that, it’s not going to be until after this one works.” Stiles mused. He closed his eyes. “Now be quiet, please.” He thought over his list, focusing on everything he wanted in another person. 

Allison settled down next to him on his other side with her own bowl, an almost glowing mix of orange and yellow rose petals soaking in the water from the Preserve. She glanced at Lydia for a moment, and then at Stiles, furrowing her brow a little before she followed her best friend’s example. She withdrew one of her small blades and lightly nicked the softest part of her thumb, squeezing gently until several drops of her blood mingled with the rose petals and water. For good measure, she lightly tugged a single strand of hair out and placed it in the bowl, and then gave the bowl a good swish before shutting her eyes and concentrating on everything she wanted.

Isaac settled down beside her. He looked down at his bowl and squinted a little. The only color petal he had in his bowl was lavender, and he’d tugged several strands of his own hair out to place them with the petals and the drops of water from the Preserve. He felt a little self-conscious when he realized that he was the only one to have used the small fragment of rose quartz for his spell, but he shrugged it off and took a deep breath, wishing and hoping for what - who - he wanted most.

***

Xerox could feel turmoil in the house as he carried a stolen suitcase, full of stolen clothing, up the stairs. He stopped on the landing, closing his eyes and breathing in. His stomach rolled, and his smile wavered. He could sustain himself on his warring emotions, but it still felt wrong. “Jackson?”

There was silence for a long beat before Jackson finally answered. “My room.” He replied flatly. 

Xerox set the suitcase down outside Jackson’s door, opening it. He was silent as he regarded the boy. “You know I’m not him.” He shook his head. “Tell me to get out, then.”

“I don’t fucking like being made a fool of.” Jackson snapped, ignoring Xerox’s words. He stood up and got in the other teen’s face. “And that’s what I felt like - a fool, an ass. You couldn’t even tell me the fucking truth. I don’t even - I can’t even tell you how I would have reacted if you’d told me the truth because you didn’t give me that fucking chance. Do you - you have his memories. You know everything that he knows about me. Does it seem to you like I’ve ever been okay with secrets being kept from me, jackass?”

“No.” Xerox agreed. “I wasn’t doing it to hurt you. Do you really believe that if you had known, if I had just shown up and said, ‘hi, I’m the thing that was trying to kill your friends, but now I’m just trying to live my life,’ you wouldn’t have immediately slit my throat? Because I didn’t want to take that chance. This sucks for me. I know how Stiles would probably react, okay? ‘Oh, poor psycho demon, having to deal with feelings.’ But my wolf side wants to be protected, wants to protect and belong, and that goes against everything I’ve been, everything I’ve known, for a thousand years. I feed on pain and chaos. I kissed you because I thought it would sustain me, all of your confusion was right there and it felt pretty good. But I didn’t expect to like it. Or the scent of your clothes being on my skin. I want you to tell me to fuck off and get out, I want to have nowhere to go. I want to be able to sustain myself on that, on knowing that I fucked up and having it be a war within me. But it hurts, too. If you killed me now, you’d be doing us both a favor. But then you’d have to live with it, and I don’t want that for you, either.” 

“I already have to live with what other people made me do against my will.” Jackson murmured, and he flashed his wolf eyes at Xerox. “So… thanks for thinking of that at least. I don’t know what I want to do. I should tell you to get the fuck out of my house. I should tell you to run.” He rubbed a hand over his face and sat back down. “God, fuck. I should tell you to run. You should run.”

“Do you want tea?” Xerox blinked, not sure why he had asked. “I can make some. I don’t want you to feel like me being here has been a complete waste. You can even watch me make it. I won’t do anything to hurt you.” 

“I… yeah.” Jackson said quietly, looking up with a slightly surprised expression on his face. “Yeah. I’d like some tea, please.” He looked equally surprised when he realized that he truly believed the next words out of his mouth. “And I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Xerox smiled and took a few steps backward, motioning for Jackson to follow him. “Stiles started calling me Xerox after Scott bit me. I kind of like it, it gives me my own identity. Lets me be a different person, even though the name says otherwise.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. He smiled hesitantly, going into the kitchen to look around for the tea. 

“It’s in the top cabinet on the left by the fridge.” Jackson murmured, taking a seat at the table. He drummed his fingers on the table top silently for a moment, and then sighed. “I can’t lie and say this isn’t weird as hell to me.”

“Think how I feel.” Xerox nodded. “For a thousand years, I was an immortal demon who brought death and destruction. Before this, I was only doing what was asked of me, but it’s somehow my fault that the centuries-old bitch wanted vengeance? Your friends... if you would call them friends, I mean...” He put tea leaves into two cups while he waited for water to boil. “Well, Stiles in particular, I guess. He’s like me. He could be more than a typical human, if he wants. He was a great host. Playing tricks, harboring so much rage... I know I shouldn’t talk about it now, but it felt good, taking control of him. It wouldn’t have worked if I had tried to possess Scott. And Allison would have probably sacrificed herself fully if I had chosen her. But Stiles has more internal conflict.” He paused. “This isn’t helping us be friends. I’ve never even wanted friends before.” 

Jackson snorted. “Neither have I.” He muttered. “I never had… I had two friends. From the time I was a kid until middle school. And then I stopped talking to one of them, and the other became my girlfriend. And Danny and I were friends, then. So I guess technically, I’ve had three, but… only two at any given time.”

“More than I’ve ever had.” Xerox smiled. He poured the boiling water into the tea cups, then set them on the table and sat down. “I spent about sixty years trapped in a wooden box.” He snorted, then made a face when he realized he sounded too much like his former host. “Can you explain shapeshifting to me?” 

Jackson tapped at the table again. “I’m… still trying to work it out myself.” He admitted. “But I can try. What exactly do you want to know about it? How to do it?”

“Yeah, that would be good. I want to figure out if I can do different things.” 

“I’m not sure how good I’ll be at instruction or whatever, but sure.” Jackson shrugged. “I, uh… honestly, I’m still not sure how I do it, I just… kind of zero in on what I want to do. Just kind of shut my eyes and concentrate on what I want to appear, whether it’s a claw, or a fang. My ears. My eyes. A full beta shift.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure how to explain it exactly, other than that.”

“I’ll have to give it a try. But later.” Xerox smiled. “After our tea, at least.” 

Jackson nodded and lifted the cup of tea to his lips, taking a careful sip.

“Is it good?” Xerox looked hopeful.

Jackson tilted his head a little. “It could maybe use a little bit of sugar, but otherwise, yeah. This is good.” He paused. “I didn’t even really remember that I had this tea.”

Xerox got sugar from the cabinet and set it down on the table. “I thought it would be like how Italian restaurants give out breadsticks. You’re in London, you have tea.”

Jackson snorted out a laugh. “Maybe it just came with the flat when I bought it.” He murmured. Reaching out for the sugar, he scooped up a spoonful, stirring it into the tea before setting the phone down and taking a sip. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me stay.” Xerox smiled. He tilted his head, thinking. “Thank you.” 

Jackson’s lips twitched. “Was that difficult for you?” He teased. “It’s… you’re welcome. I - honestly, I’m doing this just as much for me as I’m doing it for you.”

“Yeah, then we’ll have to stick together.” Xerox laughed. “I’m trying to remember manners. It’s not like I ever used them before.” 

“Don’t worry about them around me, I don’t really care.” Jackson told him, shrugging again. “I know I don’t have the best manners on the planet, so…”


	3. The Balance

Stiles tried to deal with going to school the next day, but he felt like everything was wrong. His shirt was confining, even though he knew it was loose. His desk made him feel caged. The teachers called on him when he didn’t know the answer, and wouldn’t call on him when he did. And to top it all off, his extra credit and make-up work seemed like they would take him the entire week, if not longer. By lunchtime, he was glad for a reprieve, but the food looked and smelled worse than usual. He left his empty tray where it was and walked out of the line, trying to figure out what he wanted. 

Allison approached him from behind, small dark circles under her eyes. “Feel like ditching and getting food somewhere else?” She asked warily. “I’m guessing our days have been about the same so far. I’m off. I don’t… my skin itches, it almost doesn’t feel right. And I honestly think being in this building might be making it worse.”

“I’m having the same problem.” Stiles frowned. “Do you think it’s the spell?” He motioned for her to follow him. “Because I was having weird shit happen before I cast it.” 

Allison walked after him, looking curious and worried. “Weird how? What happened? And - I’m not sure if it’s the spell, but… I mean, I don’t remember anything weird happening to me before we did it, you know?”

“I’ve been sleeping a lot and yesterday, I ate an entire steak. Raw.” Stiles admitted. “That’s the thing that Scott kept wanting to talk about, but Derek kept telling him to shut up about. So I don’t think your situation and mine are the same. It can’t be the spell.” 

Allison shook her head, looking surprised. “Maybe mine is just fatigue?” She reached up and patted his back. “I wish I knew what eating raw meat means. I mean, I know there’s, like, steak tartare, but that’s… nowhere near what you’re dealing with.” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “Do you… think it might be something supernatural? Something… left over from, you know. Him?”

“It might be. I was thinking that maybe he has that body, the original one? And mine is new. Formed differently? Or maybe harboring him was what changed me. Or maybe those ideas are both wrong and I’m just really hungry after not eating for a couple of weeks.” 

Allison frowned a little. “Maybe. I don’t… I wish I knew, Stiles. I’d ask my dad, but I don’t think he even knows, and he’s the only other person I know that’s experienced a nogitsune before, other than Kira’s mom.”

“Yeah, let’s not get him involved.” Stiles muttered. It had only been days earlier when Allison’s father had been prepared to kill Stiles’ body to stop the nogitsune. “Or her. Actually, the hell with any adult who isn’t my dad or Scott’s mom. Derek doesn’t even count.” 

Allison huffed a small laugh and squeezed his arm. “Okay. We’ll nix any adult who isn’t immediately related to you, or isn’t as good as related to you. I promise.” She sighed. “So… I’m still going to get the bestiary for you. Is this why you needed it?”

“I’m looking into a few things.” Stiles said carefully. “I’ve also been cross-referencing spell ingredients.” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Allison smiled gently. “It’s okay. But, hey, if you need any help, you know I’ve got your back, right?”

Stiles nodded, smiling back at her. “Yeah, I know. Now let’s go find real food, all right?” He walked out to the parking lot and got into his Jeep, biting his lip and fighting the urge to go into the forest. He smiled to himself as he looked over at Allison. “Wanna tell me anything about your spell?” 

Allison bit her lower lip, glancing back at him nervously. She took a deep breath and then blurted, “I didn’t get gender specific. Um. I mean… I didn’t reserve myself to just a ‘he’.”

Stiles laughed. “I didn’t reserve myself to anyone, either. Is this... did we just come out to each other? Is that weird? I mean, it was at least unexpected. Or I think so, anyway.” 

Allison laughed softly, running a hand through her hair. “I - I mean, it probably is? I wasn’t intending to, but I felt like - like I had to tell someone? I told Lydia that… that I was curious months ago. Like, months ago when Erica -” she froze and swallowed before continuing more softly, “When Erica was still… here.”

“So you liked Erica, or was that coincidence?” Stiles asked carefully. He put a hand on her shoulder as he drove, one-handed, out of the lot. “I miss her. I know you two didn’t get along too well, but you never had a chance to get to know her.” 

Allison looked fairly miserable. “I never had the chance because I was too caught up in Scott and too worried that she’d steal him from me. That… that one class, where Harris had us playing musical lab partners? She told me she didn’t see Scott and I lasting, said that she had a feeling like she was a little bit psychic. I told her she couldn’t hurt me by running her hand all over his thigh, so she… put her hand on mine. Dug her claws in. And… it didn’t scare me like it should have. It didn’t creep me out or anything. Part of me liked it.” She fell silent. “And then, you know. I let Gerard get into my head. I let him use my mom’s death to… turn me into a miniature Kate. I-I shot Erica in the thigh. I shot Boyd multiple times until…” She swallowed again. “And then I found her. Stuffed in a closet. Like a piece of trash. She never would’ve been captured if it wasn’t for me. She might have survived, if I hadn’t played Gerard’s good little assassin and weakened her too much for her to get away when the Alpha pack claimed her.”

“Or maybe the Alpha pack shouldn’t have fucking killed her.” Stiles muttered. “You had nothing to do with that. Actually, Boyd and Erica were looking for the other pack on their own, because they thought Derek was a shitty leader. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to take control, to make Scott back off. Derek knows he sucked at it, it got two people killed. He doesn’t need a reminder. He needs someone to be kind.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I - I’m going to try to bring them back. I know that movie last night... they think that bringing someone back from the dead makes them evil. I don’t. If I’m wrong, I’ll fix it. But I want to try. Do you think you can be okay with that?” 

Allison nodded jerkily. “If it’ll give me a chance to make up for the way I acted with her, I’d be okay with you resurrecting the entire Hale family.”

“One thing at a time.” Stiles smiled. “So... what, or I mean who, is your type?” 

Allison blew out a soft breath, letting out a laugh. “I… have no idea? I’ve never explored it. I mean… I’d say Lydia except that she is quite literally everyone’s type. And I don’t feel a romantic attraction to her.”

“I don’t either, anymore.” Stiles laughed. “Okay, well, you liked Scott.” He murmured. “So you want someone willing to cuddle with you and be supportive when things go to hell. That’s not exactly going to narrow it down much. At least that means you don’t want a fuck buddy, though.” 

“No, definitely not.” Allison murmured. “I, um.” She frowned for a moment, and then pulled out her notebook, but didn’t push it toward him, not wanting to distract him while he was driving. “Nevermind. I’ll show it to you when we stop.”

Stiles nodded. “Mine is in my backpack. We’ll compare notes, maybe help each other look? It doesn’t break rules to look, right?” 

“I don’t see why it should. In the movie, Sally says what she wants out loud in front of Gillian,” Allison pointed out, shrugging. “I mean, it’s a movie, and all kinds of awful crap happened from there on out until everything finally resolved itself, but still.”

“Yeah.” Stiles laughed. “Well, I meant it doesn’t break rules to look for the people we want. But yeah, same goes, I think?” He parked outside the diner and got out, grabbing his notebook from his backpack and carrying it with him into the diner. 

Allison climbed out, shutting the door of the Jeep carefully behind her before jogging to catch up with Stiles and holding her notebook to her chest. “Here’s hoping. I don’t know.” She sighed. “I just want this to work, you know?”

“Yeah, me too.” Stiles mumbled. He sat down in a booth, then slid his notebook to the other side of the table, holding his hand out for Allison’s notebook. 

Allison handed the notebook over and reached for his, opening it. She tilted her head to the side, reading over Stiles’ desires. She furrowed her brows. “I’m… forgive me if I’m wrong, but… this sort of sounds like Derek, doesn’t it, Stiles?”

“Yeah, probably.” Stiles murmured. “Except I can’t see him sitting in a library or eating ice cream in winter. I know those things don’t sound important. I guess it was sort of a ‘fuck you’ to the universe?” He shrugged. “Yours sounds like Derek too, though. And between you and me, he’s not ready for a relationship. I think he’s kind of scared of them, at this point.” 

Allison sighed. “Yeah, I think so too. It’s… just one more thing that Kate’s ruined. Everything she did, and… she’s gone now, but she’s still torturing him. I feel so awful for him.”

“So do I, but I feel like there’s not a whole lot I can do. Not more than I’ve already done, I mean.” Stiles ordered a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich for himself, along with a root beer. 

Allison’s stomach growled. “That sounds really good. I’ll get that, too.” She looked at the waitress. “But with bacon on the grilled cheese, and a root beer float.”

Stiles grinned as the waitress walked away. “You know, this is getting weird.” He teased. “You’re bi-curious, like the food I like, and your list and mine both sound like Derek. That pretty much means that if you like somebody, odds are, I do. I don’t wanna get into the whole thing about Scott, but... I did offer to make out with him a few times and he never once took me up on it.” 

Allison laughed softly. “Maybe I’m you, but in girl form. Maybe we’re long lost twins.” She teased. “Do twins usually like what the other one likes?”

“Maybe?” Stiles laughed. “I don’t know, but there are a lot of books about them. Uh, the Wakefield twins, the Bobbsey twins...” He snorted. “The movie Twins is a whole different thing, though.” 

Allison snorted out her own laugh. “I don’t know for sure. But it’d explain why I don’t really look like either of my parents. Just saying.” She leaned back, fiddling with her napkin a little. “If you could have the pick of anyone in the world to be with, who would you choose?”

“Anyone in the entire world usually means ‘what celebrity do you think is hot,’ so... that’s actually a tough question.” Stiles mused. “Six months ago, I would have said Lydia, no matter what. But no, not her. And not Derek. Not until he’s ready, at least. If the next person walking through that door was going to be mine for the rest of our lives, and also someone famous? I’d want it to be either Chris Evans or Amanda Seyfried. Or Rachel McAdams. What about you?” 

Allison stared at him, and then giggled. “Well, we’re agreed on Chris Evans at least. Um, girl-wise, though?” She flushed a little, shrugging. “I’m not really sure? I think… Isla Fisher. She’s… really gorgeous. And, um. Maia Mitchell? I’m not sure if you know her?” She hesitated and then added quickly, “Also Robert Downey Jr, Emilia Clarke, and Margot Robbie.”

Stiles laughed. “I haven’t heard of some of those names, no.” He admitted. “So, do you think I should start hanging out in libraries and the Preserve until I meet my person?” 

“Well, you already hang out in the Preserve a lot,” Allison pointed out. “I mean, like, a ridiculous amount, whether you mean to or not. But the library? Sure. I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” She paused as the waitress brought their food to the table, and felt her eyes flutter shut and she caught a whiff of the food. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.”

Stiles smiled, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. He wiped his hands on a napkin and read over Allison’s list again, thinking. “You know, whoever this is, you’re not going to meet them for at least seven more months, assuming it even happens this year. And they’ll be someone you don’t already know, because you’ve kind of roped yourself into having some kind of meet-ugly thing happening, where you argue right away. I mean, if that’s what you’re into, okay, cool. I’m just saying that it seems like... yours is going to take awhile.” 

Allison nodded, smiling a little crookedly. “I think waiting would be good for me. I mean… I jumped from a relationship with Scott right into a ‘relationship’ with Isaac. Didn’t really do me any good.” She tore a piece of her sandwich off and dipped it into the soup before hurriedly scooping it into her mouth. Chewing silently, she waited until she swallowed before she continued. “Everything with Scott was… sweet. Cute. It was literally the most perfect first love I could’ve had. And… I’m sorry to say it, but Isaac was a rebound. And maybe it was shitty of me to go after my ex-boyfriend’s friend, but…” She shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly clear-headed. I figure… I got the wild out of my system. I got the sweetness out of my system. Maybe waiting, and then starting the potential for a relationship with someone who gives me a hard time right off the bat could be a nice change.”

Stiles laughed again. “I’m going to end up spying on you this summer. I don’t want to hang around too close and make you seem unapproachable.” 

***

Xerox had decided that trying to enroll in school, though it would kill time, would only confuse people who would process his DNA and fingerprints and wonder what a teenager was doing, being enrolled in two different high schools. He had stayed home instead, watching tv. 

Jackson watched him silently, his head tilted curiously. “Are you bored?” He asked. “You - I mean, you look kind of like you’re bored.”

“A little. I don’t understand why people sit and watch this. It’s mindless.” Xerox remarked. “I came into existence in a time when travel was on foot and the world had a lot fewer people in it. Entertainment was sex or fighting.” He smiled. “Or watching kids play. There was little else to do.” 

Jackson hummed and leaned back. “Yeah, I mean… I guess I can see how you’d wanna bash your brains out, sitting down and watching this thing all day. I figure it’s a step up, at least, from sitting around and telling stories around a fire because that stuff actually plays out in front of you with the right actors and actresses now. And… I mean, the news is worldwide, they keep you up to date with what’s happening in London, on the continent, or on the other side of the globe in California. So… I don’t think it’s all bad, but it is if you’re just staring at it brainlessly for hours at a time, right?” He moved to sit down next to Xerox without thinking about it, oddly fully comfortable around the other man despite the short amount of time they’d spent together. 

Xerox smiled softly. “I should probably find other things to entertain myself with.” He turned toward Jackson. “Is it strange or a comfort, me looking like this?”

“I’m not sure.” Jackson admitted quietly. “It’s definitely strange. But… maybe it’s actually both. You look familiar, but you’re a wholly different person than I usually deal with when I look at that face. And you don’t make me want to put my fist through drywall.”

“Yeah, I have knowledge of the problems between you two.” Xerox laughed. “I could figure out shifting and become my own person, though I don’t know what I’d want to become. What do you like? I’m serious, I want to hold your attention.” 

Jackson’s lips twitched faintly. “You can never go wrong with lacrosse.” He teased. “That’ll hold my attention beyond belief.” He shifted a little, gazing at Xerox. “Though… I’d say you’ve been doing pretty well. At keeping my attention, I mean.”

“Even with this face?” Xerox murmured. “Because seriously, I could change it. I think.” 

Jackson huffed out a quiet laugh. “If you can, go for it. But I don’t think it’s important what you look like. I know you’re… I know other people think you’re evil. And… I don’t know, maybe I have a fucked up sense of evil versus good because of what I am, but… I get you. You know?”

“Yeah.” Xerox nodded. “Is it too much to ask for a kiss?” 

Jackson exhaled softly. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask for, no.”

Xerox leaned toward Jackson, kissing him slowly. He rested a hand on the couch, by Jackson’s head, as he wondered if he should try to get closer. 

Jackson pressed closer, his own hand settling on the couch by Xerox’s waist. He didn’t quite feel brave enough yet to reach out and hold the other teen.

Xerox smiled as he pulled away. “I’m glad we did that.” 

Jackson grinned back crookedly. “Me, too.” He murmured. “And, like, I’m actually glad this time. Really.” He rushed to add, recalling his reaction when they’d first run into each other.

Xerox laughed and leaned in for another quick kiss, then got up and went into the bathroom, eyeing his reflection. He felt vain, which he didn’t like very much, but he did like his face and his eyes, even if they weren’t originally his own. 

Jackson stretched out across the couch, smiling. “Hey, if you manage something new, lemme see!” He called out.

“Okay!” Xerox yelled back. He braced his hands on the counter, thinking as he leaned forward. As much as he liked how he was, he knew that he needed to be different. It would be too hard to be someone else as long as he looked identical to Stiles. With that in mind, the first thing he let shift were his fingerprints. He reduced his height a few inches, added muscles, changed his hair and eye color, and then kept going. The guy staring back at him, when he was finished, was unrecognizable. Once more, Xerox felt like he could sustain himself on his confusion. He walked out of the bathroom, clearing his throat as his vocal cords changed, and his voice along with them. “Hey. Better or worse?” 

Jackson looked up with a smile, and his eyes slowly went wide as the rest of his face went slack. He sat up. “I… better.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, better. Very… better.”

“Yeah?” Xerox laughed. “I guess I need a different name. I’m not Stiles’ identical copy anymore.” 

Jackson coughed. “Uh, we can… let me grab my laptop. We can look up a name for you. And, uh. Maybe I can get in touch with Danny and see if he can create a legitimate identity for you or something.”

“That would be good.” Xerox looked around, feeling strange in his new body, but not uncomfortable. “I’ll go make tea.” 

Jackson grinned faintly, and then couldn’t resist, reaching forward and tugging him close for a kiss. “You and your tea. I’ll be right back with the laptop.”

Xerox grinned back. “It gives me something to do, without hurting anyone.” He shrugged, going into the kitchen. 

Jackson went and grabbed the laptop, and then wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “Do you?” He asked after a moment as the computer was booting up. “Still want to hurt people, I mean? It’s okay if you do. I get it.”

“It was never about wanting.” Xerox sat down as he waited for the water to boil. “Every universe must have balance, and I’m only what you would call dark when I am asked to be. Chaos isn’t always buildings falling down and people screaming in the streets. It’s lost keys or a doorbell being rung, but nobody being there when the door is opened. Years ago, a kitsune pleaded for me to hear her, to come make everyone suffer. So I did. I made everyone suffer. And that wasn’t good enough for her. What she had actually meant was ‘please punish only the people I want you to punish and go away,’ but that wasn’t at all what she had said. If you want to think of me as being a genie, that might be more apt?” He shrugged. “Other than that, it’s like... a baby only eats so much. Their stomach is small and they don’t need a lot of food, to survive. Adults eat much more. The more I eat, the stronger I get, the hungrier I become. But I can survive on lost keys instead of mass murder. I just didn’t want to. I was so angry, before.” 

Jackson gazed at him, and then asked a little hopefully, “And now you aren’t?”

“No.” Xerox assured Jackson. “I’ve had a lot of time to think while you were in school. I want to understand my new abilities and limitations. I need someone to teach me and I want you to be that person, but I can’t have that and be destructive. So something has to go.” 

“Wow.” Jackson said softly, licking his lips. “That’s… wow.” He looked down at his computer, his cheeks faintly red even as he smiled. The welcome screen on his laptop appeared, and he quickly entered his password before rapidly typing and entering on to a site. “How does Devon sound? Maybe Eric?” His lips twitched a little as his eyes caught on one name and its meaning, and he couldn’t help giggling to himself. “Renault?”

Xerox laughed, shaking his head. “No, I don’t care for any of those. What else do you like?” 

Jackson clicked a few more times, scrunching up his face a little. “Um… Christian? Sawyer. Chase… Theo?”

“Theo.” Xerox smiled. “I like that. Chase and Sawyer sound too... uh, not like me.”


	4. The Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Before you read this chapter** , you should know that we're not big fans of Kira. We have our reasons and we'll be glad to discuss them, if you're curious. Her portrayal here is a little OOC, but it's necessary for the story.

Another week passed, and Stiles had gathered almost everything he needed to resurrect Erica and Boyd. A few more items were supposed to be delivered soon, but he was anxious to do everything before Christmas. His arms and back were starting to itch, and he sighed as he sat down to dinner with his dad, squirming a little in his seat as he rubbed his itching back against the back of the chair. “I think I need to go back on Ativan.” He looked up at his dad. “I don’t know if it’s being an alpha or trying to catch up on school work I missed, but I’m starting to itch everywhere and I think I’m going to end up with scratch marks everywhere if I don’t do something.” 

John looked a little concerned. “Yeah, we don’t need people asking you if you’ve got a rambunctious cat.” He grimaced. “Alright. Do you want me to set up an appointment for you to get the prescription?”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed. He made a face and scratched his arm, doing a double take when a strip of skin got stuck under his nails and peeled off. “Um. Maybe a dermatologist?” 

John followed his gaze, and his eyes went slightly wide. “Yeah. Yeah, I think… maybe we should go now?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. He stood up, stretching because his back felt tight, like his shirt was too small. There was a ripping sound, and he closed his eyes, horrified. “Please tell me that was my shirt, and not something else.” 

John swallowed roughly. “I… I think we might need to find a different kind of specialist, kiddo.” He told Stiles gently, approaching his son. “Come on. Let’s sit down, alright? We’ll… figure out what might have happened, and then we’ll go from there.”

Stiles sat back down slowly. “Okay. Well, I think this has everything to do with the fact that I was possessed by a demon. Uh, about two weeks ago, I ate a raw steak. I’ve been feeling like I can’t sit still. Like I’m too big for the desks at school. I don’t mean I have some kind of body dysmorphia thing, either. I looked it up. This is like... I don’t want to be caged? Maybe it’s a PTSD thing, I don’t know. But the fact that my skin is shedding is kind of cause for concern.” 

“Big cause for concern.” John agreed, nodding, taking a seat beside Stiles, his eyes flitting over Stiles anxiously. “Alright. I’m going to defer to you on this, because… well, right now, you’re the expert. Who do we call? Deaton? A Hale? Is there some sort of medicine woman that you know through the friend of a friend of a friend that might know what’s happening to you? Because demonic possession is rough, but… well, when my kid’s body starts shedding skin after the possession is over, I’m a little inclined to panic.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “Um. I don’t trust Deaton on this. I mean, he didn’t tell us that one of the risks I was facing was that something might hijack me. I might call Scott. Or Peter Hale. I know, before you say anything. But he’s kind of like, a walking Hale library. And Allison’s bestiary hasn’t told me much of anything. But that could be because I haven’t been looking for the right things. I mean, peeling is kind of... I didn’t search for that yet.” 

John didn’t hesitate for an instant. “Call Peter.” He agreed, nodding. “If he’s the best chance we’ve got for figuring out what’s happening, I won’t protest. I might hold a gun to his head, but I won’t shoot unless he tries to screw you over.”

Stiles dialed Peter’s phone number, licking his lips nervously. “Peter, I need your help.” 

“Why do you sound like you’re going to be sick?” Peter asked immediately, sounding wary.

“Well, that might have something to do with the fact that I’m shedding skin.” Stiles said bluntly. “You’re the resident expert on all things weird and I don’t trust Deaton. I trust you more. Think about that, but don’t take too long, because I might actually be dying.” 

There was a long pause, and then Peter huffed. “You’re not dying.” He said, sounding amused. “You’re shedding. Well, molting, really. Looks like our fox friend’s casual take-over left you with a bit of a gift. Of sorts.”

“Ugh. Can’t I just return it?” Stiles protested. “What is it? How do I fix it?” 

Peter sounded just about gleeful when he answered. “There’s no fixing it. You have to let it run its course, but the good news is that it shouldn’t be much longer. Better news is that it’s probably a good thing you rejected my offer of the bite, because if there’s anything you could choose to change into, other than a werewolf? It’s a dragon.”

“I’m a fucking dragon!?” Stiles yelled. “What?” 

“Have you been feeling like you’re growing too big for your skin?” Peter asked, grinning over the phone. “Any desire to hoard shiny things? Have you been wanting to eat that little Hobbit friend of yours, Scott?”

Stiles gulped, thinking of the pile of gold coins in his dresser. He had asked for them at the bank, instead of paper bills. “Scott pisses me off at least once a day. We’re like brothers. It’s normal.” 

“Bet you haven’t had that urge to taste his bone marrow when you’ve argued before, though, have you?” Peter hummed slyly. “It’s alright. You’re in a transition stage. Your senses are heightened. I promise you won’t eat your friend. I mean, you might find yourself chewing on his arm or his fingers a little, but you aren’t a fully grown dragon, you’re an infant compared to some of the others out there. It would be akin to a kitten ‘attacking’ their human.”

“Could you stop enjoying this, please?” Stiles frowned. “What do I need to do? I mean, I’ve got all weekend to, uh, molt. So that should be okay, right?” 

“How does one get rid of dead skin, Stiles?” Peter asked, sighing. “You exfoliate, yes? Are you feeling any pain from the molting, or just irritation at being unable to find relief? Take a bath. Long, and as hot as you can make it. You’ll be alright. And no, I will not stop enjoying this, this is the most interesting thing to happen to a human that I’ve ever been present to witness. When you grow and shed your first scales, please consider giving me one, they have fantastic spell properties.”

Stiles grimaced, carefully avoiding his dad’s gaze as he spoke. “You’d have to bend over because I’m probably going to shove it straight up your ass.” He hung up, sighing. “I need to call a pack meeting.” 

“I’m guessing it’s really that bad.” John murmured, swallowing. “Dragon, huh?”

“Yeah.” Stiles muttered. “Um, before you think that Peter was propositioning me? He asked for one of my scales. Like, later on.” He called Scott as he spoke. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Scott answered, sounding confused. “What’s going on? I felt… jumpy just now, but it wasn’t me. It felt like you. Are you okay?”

“Not exactly. I’m having a pack meeting. Kind of an emergency and it has to happen right now. So if you can get Kira and Isaac, I’ll call Derek and Allison, and Ally can just pick Lydia up and bring her over. I’ll, um... I’ll order pizza.” Stiles muttered. “I’ll talk when I can tell all of you at once.” 

“Oh, wow.” Scott said softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get Kira and Isaac, and I’ll see you guys soon. Do you want me to bring anything? I can pick up a two-liter or two?”

“Um, yeah, that’ll be good.” Stiles agreed. “See you in a little while.” He hung up, sending texts to Derek and Allison instead of making two more awkward phone calls. His back was beginning to itch again, and he rolled his shoulders, sighing. “I’m going to try taking a hot bath, like Peter recommended.” He told his dad. “I don’t have a lot of time to do that before they all get here. Can you order two or three pizzas and yes, you can have some, too? And I’ll go try to peel myself in the next twenty minutes.” 

John nodded, his eyes gentle. “Go take care of yourself,” he agreed. “I’ll worry about the pizza and your friends.” 

Stiles hugged his dad. “Thank you!” He called over his shoulder, running up the stairs to start water going in the tub while he got a change of clothes from his room. He had a mostly full container of exfoliating cream, but he had a feeling he would use all of it. After soaking himself for a good fifteen minutes, he drained the water and ignored the mess that gathered near the drain, turning the shower on and slathering himself with the exfoliating cream. He rinsed off a few times in a row, sighing in relief when the itching had finally stopped, before he turned the water to a colder temperature. When he was done, he dried off carefully and covered himself in aloe vera lotion, then got dressed and cleaned up his mess. He wasn’t sure what to do with the bathroom trash bag, and he figured his friends were around already, so he didn’t want to carry it past them. Instead, he threw it into his closet and sighed, then went downstairs to the living room. 

“Hey, kiddo.” John called when he saw Stiles. “Come have a seat. The pizza should be here in another few minutes, and Scott brought your favorite.” He wiggled the Mountain Dew bottle with a smile. Lowering his voice, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better.” Stiles replied, his voice just as quiet. “I think it’s all gone. But so is my exfoliant. I need to buy more.” 

“I’ll worry about that.” John assured him. “I’ve seen the brand you use, I know what to get. You just worry about this for now, okay?” He pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. 

Stiles smiled. “Thanks.” He murmured. He sat down, lifting a hand to wave at Scott, Kira and Isaac. “Hey.” 

Scott smiled at him and waved a hand. “Hey, buddy. Ally, Lydia and Derek are all on their way. I’m kinda surprised Derek’s not already here actually.”

“He is here.” John commented. “He’s in the kitchen. Got here about ten minutes before you did, he’s been making something for Stiles. Tea or something.”

Stiles gave Scott a curious look, wondering why his best friend hadn’t heard the older werewolf’s heartbeat or caught his scent. He worried that his control as alpha had dulled Scott’s senses. But he had bigger things to concern himself with, so he went into the kitchen. “Hey, what are you making for me?” 

Derek smiled faintly at him, keeping his voice lowered. “Peter asked me to bring over this tea for you. You don’t have to tell me why. He already did.” He cleared his throat. “It explains a lot, actually. How are you feeling now?”

“A lot better. I probably smell like a flower shop or something, though.” Stiles snorted. “He told me to save some of my scales for him. I’m not going to fully become a dragon, right? I’ll be human, still? At least some of the time?” 

Derek nodded. “Yeah.” He murmured. “You’ll be able to shift at will. I mean, presumably? There’s not much known about dragon shifters, you know? I mean, there’s a reason that their identities are kept hidden.” He studied Stiles. “I do know that you’ll be fully sentient when you’re shifted. And you will definitely have scales.” His lips twitched. “I kind of can’t wait to see what color you’ll be. I’ve only ever met one dragon before, and he must have always stayed in human form. The only reason we knew what he was in the first place was because he was blowing smoke out of his nostrils, but there wasn’t a cigarette.”

Stiles laughed. “How the fuck did you meet a dragon?” He kept his voice down, mindful of the fact that anyone else could hear him when he didn’t control his speaking volume. 

“Completely by accident.” Derek told him. He lifted the teapot off of the stovetop and then moved toward the counter where he’d set a cup. Reaching for a tin of tea leaves, he scooped some into the infuser and put it in the cup before pouring the water over it. He turned to look at Stiles. “My mother hosted a lot of people in Beacon Hills. A lot of it was, you know, as a neutral party? Well… one of them happened to be a dragon, and Laura and I didn’t know he was even in town until we ran into him at the grocery store downtown.” He inclined his head. “... where he was shopping for steak, so that makes more sense now. He left before we did, and when we walked out, he was standing against a wall, and smoke was flowing out of his nose.” He shrugged. “Not much of a story, but my mom started laughing when we told her what we’d seen, and then explained it to us.”

Stiles grinned. He could practically picture Derek and Laura doing that, remembering what they looked like when they were younger. “I should’ve caught on, you know? I went to the bank and withdrew about twenty dollars, but I asked for it in gold dollar coins. It’s not like they’re easier to carry. Honestly, I’m trying not to be scared right now. I’m trying not to think about it, too much.” He picked up the drink and took a sip, then a longer drink, closing his eyes as it warmed him from his throat to his stomach. He finished the rest of the tea in one gulp, setting the cup aside and taking a deep breath. He clapped a hand down on Derek’s shoulder as a sign of gratitude, then went back into the living room, knowing that Derek would follow on his own time. 

Allison was stepping through the front door as Stiles walked back into the living room, and she looked up at him, smiling. “Hey! Lydia is behind me, she’ll be inside in a minute.”

Scott watched curiously as Derek followed Stiles into the living room. He could hear that they had been talking, but he didn’t know what they were talking about. 

Stiles nodded to Allison and stayed standing. He wasn’t as nervous as he thought he would be, before he had cleared away his shedding skin. He smiled to himself at the thought that he was becoming someone else. It had terrified him, only weeks before. At least he had his autonomy, now. 

Lydia sat down on the couch and looked up at Stiles. “What’s going on?” 

Stiles ran his tongue over his lower lip, then decided to just be blunt. “I’m not as okay as I thought I was, but I might actually be better, in some respects? I’m becoming a dragon. It’s not a joke, I’ve had a lot of things happen that confirm it. If this is a dealbreaker on me being the alpha, I get it. You guys deserve to know all the facts up front, I’m not going to hide things and spring shit on you at the last second.” He knew that last bit had been a dig at Scott that hadn’t been necessary, but he was also scared that they might actually want Scott back in charge and he was hoping to dissuade them from that.

“What’s your proof?” Kira frowned. “I want to trust you, but it’s not that easy. I haven’t known you as long as the others here have, and I had to deal with you knocking me unconscious, then finding out when I came to, that you had stabbed Scott. I know it wasn’t you, but only because they said it wasn’t.” She stood up and shook her head. “That’s not enough for me. You’re taking power away from your best friend, who should actually be in charge, based on _his_ circumstances, and now you’re just calling meetings to talk about more incredibly random things that keep happening to you? It’s like you think you’re a god.” 

“Shut up.” Lydia smiled sweetly, looking up at Kira. “If any of us should be concerned about someone taking control, it would be you causing the problems here. Your mother was the entire reason that Stiles got possessed in the first place, and you just intruded on our conversation one day and decided that meant that you and I were friends. I don’t think so.” She looked over at Stiles. “Stiles, are you a god?” Her lips twitched. 

“According to Winston Zeddemore, I’m supposed to always say yes to that.” Stiles nodded. “So yeah, I think so.” He looked at Kira. “I have an empty container of exfoliant and a bag of my dead skin that I didn’t feel like carting past all of the werewolves here, due to their olfactory senses. Wanna see it?” He raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Ew.” Allison snorted. “Okay, well, I believe you, if only because you’ve only ever lied to me by omission before.” She told Stiles, and her eyes darted briefly toward Scott. A second later, her gaze moved toward Kira and stayed there. “You said it yourself that you barely know him. Well, we barely know you. Just because you’re dating Scott doesn’t mean you’re suddenly our bestest friend ever. I’m not saying this to be mean, but we’ve all known Stiles longer than you, including Scott who has known him practically from diapers. So who exactly are you to distrust him after literally everyone here has told you he’s trustworthy? Because something took ahold of him against his will and forced him to do things he wouldn’t do? Are you also the type of person that blames a rape victim?”

Lydia smiled proudly at Allison, then looked at Kira again. “What it comes down to is, you decided that Stiles wasn’t ever going to be your alpha.” She said calmly. “And you thought that if you kept pushing, Scott would follow you anywhere because you’re so sweet. Allegedly.” She laughed. “What you don’t know is that he already lost his virginity to Allison, and he made out with me once. So you’re nothing special here. If Scott does leave with you, he’s not at all the person we all think him to be.” 

Scott looked hesitantly at the other two girls, and then at Kira. “I was kind of okay with you sticking up for me when we transitioned, but I told you I was going to be okay with it eventually. I know you think you don’t have any reason to trust him, and that’s fine, but I need you to stop pushing it. He’s my best friend, he’s been the only one who has been there for me right from the start. He’s pushy, and he talks a lot, and sometimes the things he says has me scratching my head because he can talk circles around me and I can’t always keep up, but Stiles has been my only friend for a long time until now, and he’s the only one that looked out for my well-being for just as long. He deliberately saved up and used his birthday money to ask my mom to buy him an extra inhaler for me when I had asthma, because the one time that I had an attack in front of him freaked him out so badly that he never wanted to see me in that position ever again.” He stared at her for a moment, and then sighed. “I can’t make you feel any differently about him, but don’t expect me to. And don’t expect anyone else to.”

Kira sighed in turn, shaking her head and grabbing her purse. She was silent as she left Stiles’ house. 

Stiles cleared his throat. “Okay. Uh, anyway. So I haven’t done the full shift thing yet, but I figure that should happen sometime between now and Christmas, given the way that things have been progressing.” He looked at Lydia. “What’s going on with you?” He asked carefully, not wanting to call her out, but needing to move on with other things. 

“While Allison was getting stitched up in the hospital, and the rest of us were at school, Kira told me that she thought it would be best if I didn’t talk to you or Scott for awhile. I barely heard her because I was watching a couple of new girls come in. They haven’t really been around since then. At least, not that I’m aware of.” Lydia murmured. “I ignored it, obviously. Nobody tells me what to do. But that doesn’t negate the fact that she said it.” 

Scott swallowed hard, sinking back against the couch and shutting his eyes. “I’m sorry she said that to you at all.” He murmured, looking miserable. 

“I wasn’t going to mention it.” Lydia muttered. “But she’s become unhinged.” 

“Okay, someone pick a movie.” Stiles blurted. “We need to de-stress again. This should just be a weekly thing. Is it okay if we reserve Friday nights for the pack? Saturday still counts as date night, right?” 

Lydia laughed softly, nodding. “Assuming any of us ever date, yes.” 

“We will.” Isaac replied quietly, speaking up for the first time. “The spell is going to work. It just… might take awhile.”

“True, but that’s just a true love spell.” Stiles reasoned. “We might end up dating people who aren’t our true loves, you know?” He glanced at Scott. “Do one. Derek’s kind of refused and he has his reasons. Valid ones. But it might make you feel better.” 

Scott hesitated again, but nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He mumbled. “I guess I kind of need to now, anyway.”

Stiles smiled faintly, then tackled Scott, hugging him. “You’re going to be fine.” He blurted. “Because honestly, you can do so much better.” 

Scott yelped, but he wrapped his arms around Stiles, hugging him tightly and burying his face in the other teen’s shoulder. “I hope so.” He said softly. “I just, I couldn’t let her keep talking to you that way. Not after everything.”

“She’s a bitch.” Lydia muttered. “I vote for more Sandra Bullock.” 

“Or Emilia Clarke,” Allison suggested, fidgeting a little and not looking at anyone. “I mean, Game of Thrones sort of plays like a movie. It’s definitely long enough.”

Stiles winked at Allison. “Yeah, Game of Thrones.” He agreed. “But we might need to take breaks between scenes, to actually eat. It can be kind of gross.” 

Allison ducked her head, smiling. 

Derek looked amused. “Maybe we should eat first, in that case.”

Stiles nodded. “My dad is probably hiding all of the pizzas somewhere.” 

“I’m not hiding them!” John called back, sounding affronted. “I’m keeping them warm!”

Derek grinned. “He put them in the oven after he took a piece from each.”

Stiles laughed and went into the kitchen, grabbing plates and loading each one with pizza slices. “Come get food! I can’t carry all of this myself!” 

Lydia walked in and grabbed two plates, carrying them out to the living room. 

Allison shifted and curled up on the couch beside Lydia, reaching for a plate. 

Derek grabbed the other plates, handing one off to Scott when he hurried toward the kitchen, and then passing the other to Isaac when he was back in the living room. 

Isaac took the plate and smiled up at Derek. “Thanks. Thanks for the pizza, Stiles.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles smiled at Isaac and sat down beside Scott, leaning against him and letting himself relax in the company of the pack. “Just tell me when you want to do this, and I’ll tell you what to do, for the spell.” He said softly, looking at his best friend. “We could probably do it now, even. Since they’re not starting the episode yet.” 

Scott tilted his head, thinking, and then shook his head. “We can wait. I’m… I’m still trying to, you know. Figure it out, why she was…” he sighed. “It can wait for now. I’d rather do it tomorrow, maybe?” He lifted his pizza. “Also, food.” He settled against Stiles, snuggling against him and sighing comfortably.


	5. The Return

Stiles woke up the next morning, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. Something glinted at the corner of his eye, and he brought his hands closer to himself, tilting his head at the sight of a reddish-orange glow. It looked almost like he had a weird sunburn, but he knew it was the start of his scales. He was glad that it was the weekend. He moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, breathing in and out slowly as he willed his scales to surface the rest of the way. He was ready to know what he could do. After about fifteen minutes, he opened his eyes and stood up, taking in the sight of his scales. They rippled as he moved, and he went into the bathroom to get a look at himself and see if his eyes were different. They hadn’t changed color, but his pupils were shaped differently. He stared in fascination, then took another deep breath and willed the scales to recede and his eyes to go back to normal. He thought about anchors and he remembered the trouble Scott had, after his break-up with Allison. Somehow, memories of all of his pack members surfaced and he smiled fondly, opening his eyes to see himself, the way he had looked yesterday, after he molted. He wasn’t ready for anyone else to see what he looked like, and he wondered if the scales and different eyes were just his beta form. He walked to the kitchen to look for any leftover pizza slices as he tried to picture what his alpha form would look like. He had other things to worry about, first. Like Erica and Boyd. 

“You’re up. Good morning.” John smiled as he entered the kitchen. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. “Anything new happen?”

“Yeah.” Stiles glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at his dad. “Just brace yourself, okay?” He shifted, his scales spreading down his shoulders and over his fingertips. He looked at his dad. “I’ve been focusing on meditation since I started making Scott do it, so I was kind of ready for this.” He held his hand out to his dad. “Take a closer look, if you want.” 

John stared at Stiles in surprise, his eyes trailing over Stiles’ hand. He reached out to take it, turning it gently in his grasp, his lips parting. “And… this is all over?” He asked, looking up to meet Stiles’ eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure. I mean, I didn’t check everywhere.” Stiles laughed. “But mostly, yeah. I don’t know what kind of dragon I am, if there are different kinds, I mean. I have a lot more research to do, but at least this scale color can help me narrow it down. I want to show Derek.” 

John laughed. “I understand. How many different kinds of dragons are there? I know what we watched in Harry Potter but I’m figuring there’s a difference.”

Stiles smiled. “They’re kind of element-based. Earth, air, fire, water, that kind of thing. Not heart, which isn’t an element and whoever made Captain Planet should be shot. But yeah.” 

“Alright.” John nodded. “So they’re nature, basically. Kind of.” He studied his son thoughtfully. “Which one do you think you’ll be?” He paused and then added, “And which one do you want to be?”

Stiles laughed again. “I don’t know if I want to fly around all the time. That seems creepy. But maybe Earth? I mean, I did that mountain ash thing. I like the woods and being outside. Fire’s okay for cooking, but... not really my idea of a good time. And water? Uh, oceans are full of things that like to attack people.” 

“If you could be some kind of combination, it’d be impressive.” John laughed. “Fire and air, water and earth, earth and fire - you could create metal elements that way.” He shook his head. “Well. You look pretty incredible. I think I’d like to see you fly maybe. Just once.”

“If I ever do, I’ll let you know. But it will probably mean falling on my face a lot, first.” Stiles mused. “Grounded just took on a whole new meaning.” 

John snorted. “I’m sure you’ll work on it.” He patted Stiles’ back. “Were you going to call Derek, or just head over to see him?”

“I think I’ll just go over there. I mean, Scott’s still crashed out here, right? He needs more sleep, and I can’t even surprise Derek, anyway. He’ll hear me coming.” Stiles pointed out. “Whatever was in that tea really helped me. I don’t feel like dealing with Peter, but I can at least pass along that I’m grateful for it.” 

“Hmm.” John murmured, but nodded. “Yeah, I suppose whatever was in it did do you some good, so I can’t be too annoyed about that. As long as you’re healthy, and you stay healthy, I’ll be happy. So… pass on my thanks as well, I think.”

Stiles smiled. “Okay.” He grabbed his keys and went outside, driving over to Derek’s apartment. It was still early enough on a Saturday that there was no traffic, and he parked in the lot and pocketed his keys as he went into the building and took the elevator up to Derek’s floor. 

Derek looked up as the elevator bearing Stiles arrived, and he moved toward the doors expectantly, a small smile on his face. He could already smell the difference in Stiles, even from where he was, and he was eager to find out what exactly had changed. 

Stiles laughed when the elevator doors opened and Derek was already waiting in his apartment doorway. “Yeah, I knew that was going to happen.” He remarked, walking toward his friend. “So. Orange. Wanna see?” 

“That’s a ridiculous question and I refuse to answer based on the fact that you already know my answer.” Derek snorted, and then gestured one hand at Stiles, eyebrows raised and a smile twitching at his lips. 

Stiles grinned and walked into Derek’s apartment, waiting until the door was closed before he tried to figure out what he wanted to do. Remembering how he had once convinced Derek to remove his shirt and everything was awkward for a few minutes, he laughed softly and took his shirt off, keeping his back to Derek as the scales appeared on his skin.

Derek reached out without thinking to touch Stiles’ skin, then faltered when he was an inch away. “Can I?” He asked. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Stiles nodded. “Oh, before I forget? Can you thank Peter for me? And for my dad, too. That tea was really good. I’d do it myself, but I feel like there’s a limit to his bullshit.” He smiled. 

Derek snorted as his fingers traced the pattern of the scales on Stiles’ back. “Yeah, I can do that.” He murmured. “He’ll be surprised. It’s not too often that he gets thanked for his remedies.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s such a dick.” Stiles mused. “I can’t stand being ignored, either.” He closed his eyes, trying not to blush when he realized that Derek’s hand on his skin was the most intimate he had been with anyone. “Okay, enough of that.” He said lightly, laughing in embarrassment. He picked his shirt up and put it back on. “What else are you doing this weekend?” 

Derek was thoughtful as he stroked his fingers over his own chin, trying to ignore the fact that he’d been blushing. “Ah. Not much of anything, really.” He admitted. “I’m not one for going out, you know that. I might go and see the old property.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Not sure yet.”

“Well, if you get bored, you could come back over to my house.” Stiles offered. “I’m probably just going to spend today helping Scott with homework and making sure he does that love spell right.” 

“I might take you up on that.” Derek smiled. “Likewise for you. The city took over the land, but… I’ve been wondering if I should buy it back from them. Or build somewhere else and let the city have control of the Beacon Preserve that we owned. Maybe you could help me think up some plans.”

“Yeah!” Stiles nodded. “I’ll come back over here later, then. I’d better go, I have a long day ahead of me. Research and everything.” He murmured. “See you later.” 

Derek reached out and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder gently, nodding. “I’ll see you later.” He murmured. 

Stiles went out to the Jeep. Instead of going home, he sent Allison a text. ‘Are you awake?’ 

‘Uh-huh. What’s up?’ Allison replied. 

‘We’re doing this thing today. Meet me in the cemetery? I’m picking up some stuff at the store, but I won’t be too long.’ Stiles couldn’t wait to see Derek’s reaction when Erica and Boyd were back. 

‘Cemetery? Oh. Oh! Cemetery! I gotcha! Yeah, I’ll be there!’ Allison answered. 

Stiles smiled to himself as he started the Jeep and drove to the store. He ignored the clerk’s concerned stare, grabbing his shopping bag. He picked up flowers from the florist down the street, then drove to the cemetery. After he stopped to put flowers on his mom’s grave, he went looking for Erica’s grave marker. 

Allison arrived soon after, looking around warily as she stepped onto cemetery soil. She hesitated when she saw the path that led to her aunt’s grave, and then hesitated again when she approached the path that led to her mother’s. Her shoulders slumped a little and she sighed, shaking her head before she walked past and made her way toward Erica’s grave.

Stiles gave Allison a rueful smile and hugged her with one arm. “We can visit them after, if you want to.” He offered.

“Not Kate.” Allison mumbled, leaning against his side and shaking her head. “She wasn’t who I thought she was when I was growing up. I mean… Mom wasn’t who I thought she was, either, but… She was my mom. Everything she did, I would hope she did because she wanted to protect me. Sometimes I had weird feelings that if Kate could sell me to someone to get a leg up on something, she would.”

“Yeah, she probably would have.” Stiles conceded. “Okay, not her. But your mom. I already visited mine, anyway. I try to come here at least once a year, but I know...” He snorted. “Especially now, I know that a person isn’t the body housing them. They’re just... it’s all in their spirit. Or whatever you want to call it. So I can honor my mom’s memory without hanging around a bunch of empty vessels.” He smiled crookedly. “Having said that, let’s do this.” 

Allison smiled back at him and nodded, turning. “Let’s go.”

**

Stiles grimaced as he brushed blades of grass off of the driver’s seat of his Jeep. He looked at Erica and Boyd, fighting back a laugh and failing. “Well, you guys might as well come in and get cleaned up. It’s going to take you awhile to wash the mud out of your hair, so we can go get you some clothes in your size while you’re doing that. And then we’ll have to tell Derek, but anyway. Just come on.” He walked over to his front door, letting himself in and taking off his mud-covered sneakers before he went looking for Scott. “Okay, you probably heard that outside, but not who I was talking to, and I don’t want you to freak out.” 

Erica looked at him warily, her footsteps stopping right at the doorway and not a step further. She swallowed roughly and curled into Boyd’s side silently.

Scott looked up at Stiles in confusion. “Why would I freak out?” He asked. “What - who’s with you?” He could smell dirt, and something else, something familiar, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Allison moved next to Stiles, clearing her throat. “Scott. Don’t freak out, seriously.” She peered back toward Erica and Boyd and gestured at them. “Come on. It’s okay, I swear.”

Boyd kept his arm around Erica, giving Allison a wary look as he walked through the doorway and looked at Scott. “H-hi.” He stammered, his throat sore from lack of talking over the past - “How long has it been?” 

“I don’t know when Erica...” Stiles admitted. “But it was September for you, and now it’s November. Almost December, though.” 

Erica glanced around, looking twitchy and shaking a little. Her skin still bore the bruises that Kali had left her with before she’d died - they were healing, but slowly. Her voice, when she spoke, barely made a sound. “Before the lunar eclipse.”

Scott straightened, staring at the two in absolute astonishment. He took a step closer, blinking rapidly. “The end of August. Oh my god.” He said softly, his gaze flitting between the two of them before bouncing toward Stiles. “How… how are they here? What did…” He glanced toward Allison, including her in his question. “What did you do?”

“We brought them back.” Stiles answered for Allison, a little too keyed up from the past twenty-four hours to care about manners. “So are you just not going to go get them clothes? Because I can call Lydia. Lydia would do it.” 

Scott looked floored, his eyes widening. “I don’t… I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit them?” He blurted, looking alarmed.

Allison looked at Stiles, her eyes soft. “Call Lydia.” She nodded. “I’ll…” She sighed, and then started again. “Scott will get them something to drink. And maybe crackers or something.” She didn’t have any illusions about the way Boyd had looked at her, and she doubted that Erica trusted her very much either. She didn’t think either of them would want her near any food or drink they might ingest.

Stiles nodded to Scott. “Get them food. We have leftover pizza, right? And don’t give them soda, just water for now.” He nudged Allison and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the hall, where he turned to face her, keeping his voice quiet. “Give them time, they’re still freaked out. They’ll come around when I remind them that they were all too willing to kill Lydia for no reason.” 

“Right.” Allison murmured, nodding. She rubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “Okay. I’m a big girl, I can deal.” She twisted her hand, pulling her wrist from Stiles’ grip before squeezing his hand tightly. “Thanks.”

Stiles nodded, glancing down at their hands. “I wasn’t trying to go, um, caveman on you. I just wanted to get you away from that situation.” 

“I know.” Allison told him, and squeezed his hand again. She let go a second later. “It’s my fault, really, I should’ve known better than to immediately think they’d be okay with seeing my face. It’s been months for them since they’ve seen me, and the last time they did, I was shooting Boyd full of arrows. They did dubious things, but I did, too, and they have every right to be wary around me.” She gave Stiles a small smile. “I’ll be okay. But, you know, thanks for getting me out of there before I tried to, I don’t know, pout them to death or something.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, that would have kind of defeated the purpose of bringing them back. So it’s a good thing you didn’t do that. Go ahead and call Lydia. I’m going to grab towels and make sure we have enough shampoo in the bathroom.” 

Allison nodded. “Text me if there isn’t, and I’ll ask Lydia to pick up more for you on her way here, okay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles went into the closest bathroom, setting out a towel and rearranging a few things before he went into the basement bathroom to do the same thing. Luckily, they weren’t as low on things as he had thought, so he sent Allison a thumbs-up emoji and went into the kitchen to sit by Erica and Boyd. 

Erica flinched. She couldn’t help it, but despite knowing who Stiles was, she still found herself jerking away and shifting closer to Boyd. She looked apologetically at Stiles as she did so.

Scott looked sympathetic, setting a plate of pizza slices in front of the two, before sliding two glasses of water toward them as well. “Drink slow.” He told them. “Not all at once. You might get sick.”

Stiles nodded his approval at Scott, smiling even though he felt sick to his stomach. He hadn’t expected things to be like this, he was so sure that they would be part of the pack and everything would get better. He should have known that it would take time. “Nobody here is going to hurt you. Lydia’s bringing some clothes, and you can get cleaned up and dressed after you eat, okay? Do you need anything else?” 

“I don’t know.” Boyd spoke, looking at Scott. “Why are we here instead of at your house? What happened?” 

Scott looked confused. “I stayed the night.” He said, looking back at Boyd, bewildered. He looked back at Stiles, uncertain.

Erica looked toward Stiles, too. “Where… where’s Derek? Is he… is he still…”

Stiles stood up. “A few things have happened.” He said calmly, looking down at them. “I got possessed by a demon and it made itself strong enough to create a copy of my body, to keep for itself. We dealt with that, but it changed me.” He glanced at Scott, then looked back at Erica. He hadn’t forgotten the way Boyd had once dismissed him, saying they weren’t friends, but he knew that Boyd and Erica were as much a package deal as he and Scott were. That was why he had decided to bring them back together. He shifted into his beta form. “Derek is still around, and part of the pack. More part of mine than he was of Scott’s. It’s still new and we’re still working out details, but I wanted you both here. Okay?” 

Erica gazed back at him, her eyes flicking around his skin - his scales - in interest and alarm. “Who… someone changed you? Demon? The demon did this?” She sat up and moved closer, reaching out a tentative hand to touch him, before freezing. “Your… pack? And - and Derek’s alive?” She looked more hopeful as she spoke.

Stiles nodded, smiling softly. “Derek’s alive. You don’t have to join my pack if you don’t want to. I want you to take some time, talk to everyone, then make up your mind.” 

Erica’s hand stretched further until she could touch Stiles’ wrist. Her fingers brushed carefully over the scales, and she shivered a little before looking back up at her very first crush. “Don’t need time.” She told him softly.

Stiles’ smile widened. He bit his lip. “Take it anyway? Just give yourself a few days or something. Allison is part of my pack. That’s not up for debate.” His tone softened. “What happened with her, being manipulated to try to kill you guys and Derek? That’s the same thing Derek did to you, about Lydia. So now? Derek is in my pack. Lydia is in my pack. And Allison. You still want in, okay. You don’t? Also okay. It doesn’t mean we can’t talk.” 

Erica tilted her head, and then glanced sharply to the doorway, where Allison had paused, looking uncertain. After a moment, Erica nodded at Stiles, gave his wrist another gentle squeeze, and then pulled away.

Boyd watched Erica, then looked at Scott again. “Why aren’t you an alpha?” 

Stiles snorted and sat down. 

Scott cleared his throat, and then smiled faintly, shrugging. “Because I can’t really be counted on to make the right decision at any given time. I kept secrets from my pack… and I treated other people really badly.” He glanced at Stiles, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “A pack isn’t just a group of people, where some are held closer and in higher standards than others. A pack is supposed to be a family. An alpha is supposed to bring people together, not split them apart. And… maybe I didn’t mean to, but that’s what I was doing by ostracizing other people.”

Stiles nodded, putting his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “But we’re working through all of that.” 

“I don’t want to be an omega.” Boyd murmured. “I don’t know if this pack is right for me, especially with you in charge. I don’t like you. But Erica does, and I like her.” 

Allison fidgeted a little, looking hesitant before she spoke up. “I get not liking me. I did some awful things to you, and I don’t blame you if you’d rather throw my body into the Preserve, never to be found again. But… why don’t you like Stiles? What has he done to you to make you not like him?”

“He’s annoying. He thinks he can have everything he wants, just because his dad’s the Sheriff. He doesn’t understand that respect is earned, he just thinks that people should tolerate him because they like Scott.” 

“You think all of that?” Stiles laughed. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me.” 

“Like you know me?” Boyd shook his head. 

“I wanted to try! I still want to try.” Stiles protested. 

Erica’s hand came down firmly on Boyd’s. “You never actually gave him a chance.” She said quietly. “You made a split-second observation and decided you already knew what he was like. It’s the same thing everyone did to you before Derek bit us. They saw you as a big, silent, scary guy, and they refused to come near you because of that.” Her eyes were gentle. “You let me get to know you. Now let Stiles.”

Boyd laughed. “Yeah, I should’ve known that was going to happen.” He looked at Stiles. “Okay. Count me in.” 

Stiles smiled. “If you ever feel like you’re not interested in being part of this, I’ll help you find another pack. I know of at least one in the area.” 

Lydia let herself in, carrying two shopping bags. “I’m here! I would’ve liked to know about this sooner, I could have helped you.” 

“I wasn’t even going to tell Allison.” Stiles shrugged. “But I thought that, of everyone else in the pack, she’d be the one who understood and wouldn’t lecture me. You lecture.” 

“I also bring supplies.” Lydia held a bag out to Erica, setting the other one down on the table, in front of Boyd. 

“How did you get everything so fast?” Stiles looked intrigued. 

“I’m friendly with the store employees, where I shop.” Lydia smiled. “I told them what I needed while I got ready, then drove to the store and paid for everything, already bagged up for me. I didn’t think the actual clothing mattered much, it was just a matter of them having something to wear, to go get things they actually want.” 

Erica reached for the bag, looking interested as she peered inside. She reached for the first thing she saw, a plain, hot pink v-neck shirt and smiled crookedly before looking at Lydia. “Thank you.” She murmured.

“You’re welcome.” Lydia eyed the slices of pizza, then frowned and walked over to the cabinet. “Stiles, they can’t eat that. They need to start off with liquids. Chicken broth or juice.” 

Stiles looked embarrassed. “Oh. Okay, sorry.” 

“But I missed pizza.” Erica protested, staring forlornly at the nice, greasy slice in front of her.

“You can have it later. Pizza isn’t going anywhere, you guys weren’t gone that long.” Lydia teased. “Go get cleaned up and get dressed. I’ll call Derek and have him bring Isaac over. And Danny, probably.” 

Erica nodded and stood up slowly, reaching for the bag Lydia had brought her and keeping it close to her chest. She carefully made her way out of the room and up the stairs, hoping she remembered where the bathroom was.

Allison watched the blonde girl go with a small smile before she looked at Lydia. “I’ll call Danny, if you want to get ahold of Derek?” She offered.

“Yes.” Lydia nodded. She called Derek while Stiles showed Boyd where the basement bathroom was. 

Derek answered cautiously. “Lydia? Hi.”

“Hey.” Lydia replied. “We have a situation here. It’s not anything life-threatening, but if you could get Isaac and come to Stiles’ house? We’re all here.” 

“Uh, sure.” Derek murmured. “We’ll be there soon.”

After Stiles heated up chicken broth for Erica and Boyd to drink, he turned the tv on just to give himself something to do. He realized then that he hadn’t shifted out of his beta form, and that nobody else in the pack had reacted to it. Suddenly, he couldn’t stop laughing and he had to sit down on the couch. 

“What is it?” Scott asked, moving to sit next to Stiles curiously. “What’s funny?”

Stiles gestured to his scales. “Nobody even said anything. I mean, Erica did, but everybody else just kinda went with it.” 

Scott fidgeted. “Well… I mean, you did say you were turning into a dragon. I mostly thought you were really shiny, but there were two resurrected people also sitting in the kitchen that I was trying to wrap my head around. I also kind of figured that you didn’t want everyone reaching out to touch you because that’d get awkward? I can’t really speak for everyone else, though. But you look really cool.”

Stiles smiled. “Go ahead.” He held his arm out. 

Scott’s hand shot out immediately, his face pressed closely toward Stiles’ arm as he studied the scales with interest. “You’ve got this really cool, like, fire-glow thing going on. Do you think this is, like, the beginning stages and they’ll settle into another color later, or is this it? This is your beta form? Dude, can you just imagine what your alpha form will be like?”

Stiles grinned. “I’m interested in finding out.” He nodded. “I want to know what else I can do, though. I mean, I don’t want to just go around, stealing keys and jewelry and shiny crap.” 

“Do you think you’ll breathe fire?” Allison asked, leaning against the doorway with a crooked grin. “Ooh, or… ice-fire?” She paused, frowning. “Is that a thing? What do ice dragons breathe?”

“Ice.” Stiles looked up at Allison. “But I can’t see myself doing that. I think these look like... the color of leaves in autumn.” He gestured to his scales. “So probably not an ice dragon.” 

“So, fire.” Scott grinned. “Unless you’re an earth dragon. Or air.”

Allison smiled. “I’ve never even heard of an earth dragon before, but it sounds kind of cool. I just can’t wait to see what you can do.”

Stiles grinned again. “Neither can I.” He got up, reluctantly letting the scales disappear as he walked over to the window to look for Derek, Isaac and Danny.

Derek rolled the Camaro to a stop in the driveway of the Sheriff’s house before climbing out and glancing into the passenger seat at Isaac, raising his eyebrows. He jerked his head toward the house in encouragement.

Isaac unfolded his gangly frame from the passenger seat of the car and climbed out, carefully closing the door behind him and making his way to Derek’s side. He sniffed curiously, and then looked up at Derek, blinking. “I don’t know what I’m smelling right now. But… it’s familiar, right?”

Derek felt himself tensing as he stared at the house, catching Stiles’ face in the window. His gaze shifted up a floor in confusion before he replied. “It’s familiar.” He agreed quietly, looking uncertain. “Come on.” He led the way to the front door of the house.

Stiles opened the door, suddenly nervous. He knew he should have said something, but he didn’t want anyone trying to talk him out of bringing them back. “Hey, Derek.” He nodded to Isaac. “Come on in.” 

Derek placed his hand on Isaac’s back and gently pushed him into the house before following. His eyes searched Stiles’ face, landing on every part from Stiles’ hairline to the moles on his jaw. A noise upstairs had his eyes shooting toward the landing, before he looked back at Stiles and whispered softly, “What did you do?”

“I brought back Erica and Boyd.” Stiles whispered back. “Allison and I did it. I didn’t tell you because I thought, if it went wrong...” He shook his head. “But it didn’t. They’re still adjusting, like they should be, but they want to be here. With the pack, I mean.” 

“Stiles.” Derek exhaled, sounding broken, and without thinking, he cupped the younger man’s face, pressing his forehead against Stiles’. He breathed out again shakily, swallowing hard. “That was… that was so dangerous, that - but if anyone - of course you’d be able to do it, of course you could…” He rambled, shutting his eyes. “Are you - are they…”

Stiles smiled. “They’re fine. Lydia stopped me from feeding them pizza and made me heat up some chicken broth, just in case their systems can’t handle solid food yet. They’ve had water and they’ve taken showers, and now they’re just kind of waiting to see you. And I’m okay.” 

“You’re incredible.” Derek corrected, pulling back to stare at him. “You really are.”

Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not bringing everybody back. I thought about it. But just these two, you know? It helps me to see you happy, for one thing. So maybe it’s selfish.” 

“Maybe it’s the best kind of selfish.” Derek murmured, and then reached out to hug Stiles tightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles hugged back. “Go see them. They’re in the kitchen.”


	6. The Dinner

Theo had documents to prove he had been born in London, and he used them to enroll himself in school with Jackson. Homework kept him busy, but angry teenagers kept him fed, and he didn’t think he had smiled so much in centuries. 

Jackson sat back and watched Theo with twitching lips and fond eyes. “I probably shouldn’t get so much enjoyment out of you feeding on chaos unknowingly offered up by classmates, but I really do like seeing you happy.”

Theo grinned as he looked at Jackson. “Well, it’s an improvement from my angry, bitter, emo thing I had going.” He laughed. “What are we doing during winter break? Are we going to Beacon Hills?” 

“Do you want to?” Jackson asked curiously, leaning back and studying Theo.

“I don’t know. I kind of do. But I don’t want them trying to kill me.” Theo mused. “I want them to see that I’m different now, though.” 

“I’ll say.” Jackson huffed out a laugh, his eyes flicking over Theo from top to bottom. “It probably mostly freaked them out that you looked like Stilinski. But you’re your own guy now.”

“Nah.” Theo said easily. “I’m your guy.” He smirked. 

Jackson snorted, sitting up. He reached for Theo, gripping the front of his shirt and tugging the other man closer. “Fucking sap.” He teased before kissing him.

Theo kissed back, laughing against Jackson’s mouth. “Yes, but it got me results.” 

Jackson laughed, too, leaning back with an arm around Theo’s neck. “It’ll always get you results.” He murmured, sliding his other arm around Theo’s waist.

Theo was grateful that it was their lunch break. He moved over Jackson, kissing him again. “It doesn’t hurt that this kind of thing pisses off our teachers. I can practically feel their rage right now.” 

Jackson grunted softly, grinning against Theo’s mouth. “There aren’t enough words in the English language to gleefully convey how much I don’t care.” 

“Ambivalence.” Theo laughed. “But that’s more mundane.”

“Mm.” Jackson hummed, smiling crookedly and rubbing his hand up and down Theo’s back. “Pretty sure mundane isn’t a thing we do.”

“No, it’s not.” Theo agreed. “Which is why we should go back to Beacon Hills.” 

Jackson tilted his head thoughtfully, gazing up at Theo. After a moment, he shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. Alright. It’ll definitely shake things up.”

Theo smiled widely. “I guess that means I’ll have to get gifts for everyone. That’s going to upset them. At least, at first, it will.” 

“They’ll get over it.” Jackson snorted. He sighed, turning his head and nuzzling his face against Theo’s neck. “How much longer do we have before break’s over?”

“About three minutes.” Theo rubbed Jackson’s side. “If it wasn’t for the fact that we have finals soon and I actually want to embrace being normal and go to a good college, I’d say we should just get up right now and fly out early.” 

Jackson snorted, biting at him gently. “I still might suggest that. I know, I know, school is good, education is good. But with the idea of harassing the rest of those jackasses in the air now, I’d gladly skip finals.”

“If you agree to stay here with me for two more weeks and finish the semester, I’ll do whatever you want. Absolutely anything.” Theo grinned. “Okay?” 

“You’re giving me a hell of a lot of leeway with that ‘anything’.” Jackson grinned. “Alright. Two weeks. Gimme a kiss and let’s get going.”

Theo kissed Jackson again, moving his lips to his boyfriend’s neck before he groaned. “We should stop, even though I don’t want to.” 

Jackson’s head thumped against Theo’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to, either.” He agreed. “But you said two weeks to finish the semester. Which means our asses need to get to class now.” He groaned and rolled out from under Theo before hauling himself to his feet and holding his hand out to his boyfriend. “Come on.”

Theo took Jackson’s hand and got up, walking to class with him. Because he had missed out on about seventy years of history, he had to pay special attention in that class. Everything else was easier, but he had opted to take all of the classes that Jackson was taking - at least for this semester.

Jackson shifted until Theo’s arm was around Jackson’s shoulders, leaning against his boyfriend with a sigh. “Are you actually enjoying the shit we’re taking?” He asked.

“Most of it, yeah. It’s easy.” Theo smiled. “History pisses me off because I have to actually study and they keep getting shit wrong. But you can’t tell them about the internment camps, you know? I can’t say ‘uh, I was there, I think I’d know’ and that’s a real pain in the ass.” 

“Mm, I figure they get real uppity about shit like that. ‘Kids’ our age saying we were somewhere we logistically couldn’t have been, yeah, it wouldn’t go over too well. I mean, you can always lie your fucking ass off and say that you’ve got a friend of a friend whose grandparents were there. It’s not like they could disprove you.”

“That’s true.” Theo nodded. “Maybe I’ll do that, then.” 

“And if they give you shit, make like a Dementor.” Jackson lifted his head to kiss Theo, grinning.

Theo kissed Jackson again. “I’m definitely going to do that.” He sat down when they got to the classroom, opening his book to the page listed on the board. 

Jackson settled down next to Theo and pulled out his own book, flipping lazily through the pages until he reached the one on the board, then yawned.

Theo studied Jackson, then got up and went to the front of the room, speaking quietly to the teacher. He went back to his desk and put his book into his backpack, leaning across his desk to nudge Jackson. “Come on.” 

Jackson looked up at Theo, blinking. “What’re we doing?” He asked, looking bewildered, even as he stood up and grabbed his bag, stuffing his book inside.

“We are going to take our final exams right now and then we’re going to the airport.” Theo grinned. 

Jackson stared at him for a long moment, and then grinned in disbelief. “I’m blowing you on the plane.”

“The whole way?” Theo teased. 

Jackson’s lips curved. “If you’re good.” He murmured, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I can be good.” Theo waited until they were in the hall, then wrapped an arm around Jackson’s waist and pulled him close for a kiss.

Jackson laughed softly, his own arms going around Theo as he kissed the other man back. 

***

On Friday night, Stiles knocked on Derek’s door and glanced down at the grocery bag dangling from his arm. “Hey, I’ve got a lot to do, please let me in?” 

Derek yanked the door open, looking at Stiles worriedly. “Yeah, come in.” He murmured, stepping aside. “What’s going on?”

“Friday night. It’s a pack meeting. I would’ve had it at my house, but we’ve got all of us, plus Erica and Boyd now, and Danny is coming tonight and I’m hoping to recruit him. Plus, there’s, uh... Jackson and... Theo? That’s what Xerox is calling himself now.” Stiles explained. “So I’m going to make chicken, broccoli and rice. With cheese sauce. And possibly a dessert.” 

Derek grumbled under his breath. “Can’t believe Peter didn’t actually kill him.” He muttered, scowling a little. He sighed, shaking his head a moment later. “What can I help with? What dessert do you want to make?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Stiles admitted. He started unloading the bag. “I got a few different things. Brownies, maybe?” 

“I think I’ve got cream cheese in the fridge. We could swirl it through the brownies?” Derek suggested.

Stiles glanced up at Derek and grinned. “That’s perfect.” He nodded, pleased. He got two pans out from Derek’s cabinet and filled them with water, putting them on the stove and turning the burners on. While he waited for the water to boil, he got a mixing bowl and got started on the brownie mix. “I’m going to try to give the asshole the benefit of the doubt.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Because I think he knows that coming back here is the last thing in the world he should do. I’m not afraid of him. I’ll fucking stab him if he tries to start shit.” 

“I know you will.” Derek murmured, pulling the cream cheese and an egg out of the fridge. He grabbed the sugar out of another cabinet, as well as some lemon juice and vanilla extract, placed everything on the counter, then grabbed a bowl and a whisk before he began piling the ingredients together. “So he’s with Jackson, then. I’m curious as to how that happened. They sort of have to be, if they’re traveling here together.”

“I don’t need details.” Stiles laughed. He put the chicken breasts on a cookie sheet and put them in the oven, then went back to mixing the brownie batter. “I’m still trying to figure out how to give Scott his ideal love interest, since Lydia and Isaac won’t let me read their notebooks and Allison’s doomed herself to having to wait until summertime, and we don’t even know if that means this summer.” 

“Well, how did his spell go?” Derek asked Stiles curiously. “Didn’t you do that while I was with Erica and Boyd?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “He pretty much described his true love as being brave and honest, but also female. So, you know, me with boobs.” 

Derek snorted. “So… basically, Allison?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I thought about her, but honestly? I believe in the power of this stuff. I think that whoever she meets, she’ll be meeting them for the first time.” 

“Which still leaves Scott out in the cold.” Derek murmured, tapping a finger over his chin. “Who actually embodies the things that he wants, other than Allison? There has to be someone out there.”

Stiles nodded again, putting the rice in one pan and the broccoli in another. “Well, it sure as hell isn’t Kira. Erica can be those things, but I think if anyone suggested she date anyone but Boyd, she might actually rip their face off. If he wasn’t looking for a girl, I still wouldn’t nominate myself, because Westermarck is a thing. Uh...” He stirred the rice, still lost in thought. “I think this is tricky.” 

“Maybe the person meant to be with him just isn’t on this side of the country.” Derek suggested. “Or in the country at all.”

“So, what then?” Stiles looked up at Derek. “Maybe I should take Scott to London during this holiday break?” 

Derek smiled crookedly. “If you think it’ll help. Hell, I’ll even spring for the tickets.” He turned back to the cream cheese mixture, trying to stamp down the part of him that kept wanting Stiles to ask him to come along.

“Then you’re probably going to have to come with us.” Stiles’ lips twitched. “If you don’t mind playing chaperone to a couple of uncultured idiots? My dad and Scott’s mom wouldn’t be able to go, and I know they both trust you. The only other adult we know is Peter, and that’s sure as fuck not happening.” 

Derek snorted out a laugh, unable to hide his grin. “I’m not sure anyone would want to let Peter loose in London, in any case.” He replied, and glanced over his shoulder at Stiles, nodding. “I don’t mind.”

Stiles grinned. “Good.” He murmured. “I’ll just leave Lydia and Allison in charge while I'm gone.” 

“We’re going to come back to a Beacon Hills army completely under their command, aren’t we?” Derek said dryly.

“Absolutely.” Stiles smiled proudly. “And then I’ll reclaim leadership and the five hundred people they’ve recruited will immediately scream and run in terror.” 

Derek snorted out a helpless laugh, his shoulders shaking. “Or they’ll promptly just wreak havoc across the entire town under your command.”

“Maybe.” Stiles mused. “I don’t think I have that kind of influence, though.” 

“I think you could.” Derek murmured. “With the right kind of training.” He smiled teasingly. “So clearly, Lydia should tutor you.”

“Yeah.” Stiles laughed. “I think I’ll let her keep her trade secrets to herself, though. I’m fine with just trying to keep tabs on the people I have.” 

“Well, lucky they’re keeping their tabs on you, too.” Derek murmured, rubbing Stiles’ back as he passed him. “You’ve got a lot of people that are very interested in your well-being and happiness.”

“Yeah?” Stiles repeated. He glanced at Derek. “I’m pretty lucky, I think.” 

Derek glanced back at him, smiling gently. “I think you are, too.” He agreed quietly. “There are people who don’t have nearly as much, or as many people as you do. You’re incredibly lucky.”

Stiles was silent as he stared at Derek, the food on the counter and stove forgotten. He had been attracted to the older man from the second he saw him in the Preserve, if not earlier - but he didn’t think his childhood crush counted, since he hadn’t even realized what it was, at the time. He had outlined the reasons why a relationship with Derek wouldn’t work, when he had spoken to Allison weeks earlier. But those reasons weren’t so easy to recall when they were the only ones in the apartment. 

Derek became aware of the quiet just a moment later, glancing up at Stiles questioningly. “Is everything alright?” He asked quietly, his eyes concerned.

“Yeah.” Stiles realized he was becoming repetitive. He turned back toward the stove. The task at hand, cooking dinner, gave him clarity to remember that Derek had been openly watching Lydia, the night that she went to gather ingredients for the love spells. Stiles’ attraction to the redhead was gone, but he knew all of her qualities and could recite them in his sleep. For all he knew, he probably had. She was perfect and poised, not at all like Stiles’ clumsy nature. He bit down on his tongue and told himself not to dare asking Derek anything that would prove or disprove him being Stiles’ alleged one true love. “Hey.” He cleared his throat. “Can you call Scott and see if he’s going to be over here anytime soon? It’ll give us a chance to plan our trip.” 

Derek nodded and gave Stiles a small smile. “Yeah, I can do that.” He murmured, and placed the bowl of cream cheese next to Stiles. It took everything in him not to drag his hand across the back of Stiles’ neck or shoulder, well aware that he’d been showing his affection for the other boy more and more as the days and weeks passed.

Stiles smiled back gratefully and poured the brownie mix into a pan. He used a fork to swirl the cream cheese mixture into the brownie batter, blinking in horror when he realized he was making triskele shapes. He quickly dragged the fork through several of them, which ruined the swirl effect, but he could just tell everyone a variation of the truth, if he wanted. He had gotten distracted and forgot what he was doing.

Derek had exited the room in the meantime, and then trailed back in several minutes later, hanging up his cell phone. He looked up at Stiles. “Scott says he can be here in another twenty.” He rolled his eyes. “He went to In-n-Out and got distracted.”

“No dessert for him.” Stiles remarked, laughing. “More for the rest of us.” 

Derek grinned softly. “Sounds good to me. If you want, I can even go out and get some ice cream to go with the brownies. We can rub it in Scott’s face a little bit more.”

“That sounds good to me.” Stiles blinked, thinking. “Do you usually eat ice cream in winter?” 

Derek huffed a laugh. “My body temperature is about ten to fifteen degrees hotter than a normal human. It’s usually the only way I can cool down. And really, it’s just good, isn’t it? I don’t see why anyone should limit themselves to eating ice cream just in the summer.”

Stiles swore under his breath and did his best to stay still, remembering the time that he had been so certain that wrapping his flannel shirt around his wrist and punching a window would break it. All he had done was hurt his hand. That was easy to recover from. Humiliating himself in front of a pack member he respected wouldn’t be. “Well, uh, just pick up some chocolate and vanilla swirl, okay?” 

Derek looked at Stiles curiously, his head tilting to the side, but he nodded slowly. “Alright.” He murmured. “Text me if you need anything else while I’m gone?” 

“I will.” Stiles agreed, turning off the burner under the pan of rice. He dumped the excess water out, straining it from the rice before he put the rice in a serving bowl. 

Derek stayed still, watching Stiles for a moment longer before he stepped close and wrapped his arms around the teen, his cheek pressing against the top of Stiles’ head. “I’ll be back soon.” He promised, nuzzling Stiles gently.

Stiles froze, staying as still as he could. He was determined not to give in to his impulses. That always, always got him into trouble. “Yeah.” He muttered. “Hurry up, because this food won’t last much longer, once everyone else gets here.” 

Derek pulled away slowly, nodding. “Right.” He said quietly. “I’ll hurry, then.” He turned without another word, leaving the loft quickly. He felt embarrassed and disappointed, and the old need to run when his emotions got the best of him were taking hold once more.

Stiles grabbed his phone and sent Allison a text. ‘911 Derek’s apartment.’ 

‘Omw,’ Allison replied instantly. ‘Tell me now, or wait til I get there?’

‘When you get here. Drive faster.’ Stiles set his phone aside and rinsed out the rice pan, adding some milk to it. He cut small chunks of cheese off of the block he had bought at the grocery store, dropping them into the pan to make cheese sauce for the rice and broccoli. Before werewolves became reality, he would have just called Scott and vented to him. But Scott was on a motorbike, Lydia would have told Stiles to stop whining, Isaac wouldn’t have wanted to listen at all, and neither would Boyd. Erica would just openly tease him, and he couldn’t talk to Derek _about_ Derek. 

Allison was in the elevator and coming up not long after that, rushing into Derek’s loft, looking bewildered. “I’m here. I’m here, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”

“I may have overreacted.” Stiles sighed. “Look, I’m just going to text this to you because someone might come by at any second and I don’t want this to become a pack thing.” He got out his phone and started typing. ‘Derek likes ice cream in winter. That by itself is nothing, but he’s been acting differently around me and I’m worried I might take advantage of that. I think he was kind of, possibly, about to kiss me a little bit ago. And I panicked and froze up. I probably ought to talk to him, right?’ He sent the text, watching Allison’s expression as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. 

Allison’s eyes widened slightly as she read over Stiles’ text, and she took a deep breath, glancing up at him. Furrowing her brows together, she looked back down and started typing. ‘Definitely talk to him. He doesn’t know the contents of your spell, he just watched us write them out and then perform them. He has no idea that he’s started matching your criteria, but if he’s starting to feel differently for you, you owe it to yourself and to him to see where you both stand. He likes you a lot. I’ve seen how he acts around you, and he genuinely cares. Not everyone gets that type of person in their life.’

Stiles nodded, smiling faintly at Allison after he read her reply. “We were talking about taking Scott to London or Paris or something, over winter break. Just to kind of give him a chance to find someone new, you know? His spell... I probably shouldn’t be telling you, but the stuff he’s looking for in a person is basically you.” 

Allison straightened a little, and she looked a little embarrassed. “Oh. Well…” she cleared her throat. “I think, um, going overseas could be beneficial to him. You’re right about that.” She nodded.

Stiles laughed. “So, no chance in hell, huh?” He teased. “I already sort of figured that, I just thought I’d say something.” 

Allison smiled sheepishly. “I just… I feel like we’ve run our course. I don’t know what the future holds, I don’t know if this spell is going to give me the person I’ll love for the rest of my life, or just my next, best chance at love. For all I know, it could end up being a complete and utter disaster where the only thing we have in common is sex. So… maybe there’s a tiny, tiny hint of a possible chance that Scott and I might find our way back to each other, but… not now. Hopefully not for a very long time.”

“I wish I had that problem.” Stiles snorted. “The whole reason I jumped at the chance for this was because - well, I don’t get noticed. Lydia didn’t even want to go out with me as a pity date until you talked her into it. It’s kind of hilarious that now that I’m in charge of things here, I don’t want much attention. Or any.” He shook his head. “Okay, I’m changing the subject because people should be here soon. I’m kind of sick of them running late all the time.” 

Allison grinned faintly. “Well, if half of them weren’t busy chasing their tails…” She teased. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Maybe just set the table and then call Scott and ask him what the fuck got him distracted now? He said he was on his way, but that he ate dinner already.” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Dink.” Allison giggled quietly. “I’ll get ahold of him. Maybe he stopped because he found the person from his spell.” 

“That would be awesome. And if he did, then I’m still going to Europe because why not?” Stiles laughed. 

Allison grinned at him slyly. “With Derek?” She wheedled. 

“Yeah, with Derek.” Stiles nodded. He lowered his voice to a whisper, terrified that someone would hear him and the teasing would never stop. “He’s a great person and he’s hot, but I think I’m demisexual anyway, because I’m not attracted to people who treat me like shit, you know? I don’t see how someone could be. But those people actually look ugly to me. Also, my dad wouldn’t be able to take time off to go overseas, so I’d need an adult with me. Which sort of sucks because, you know, I am an adult over there.” 

Allison smiled faintly. “You and I should take a trip one day. I could show you around Paris. It could be fun?” She shrugged. “You should enjoy your trip with Derek in the meantime. Get to know him. Figure out if it’s possible for you to… feel something genuine for him, and get over the idea that you might be taking advantage of him. He obviously enjoys being around you. Well, now. Give him some time to be around you, too, and learn all of your terrible habits because I’m not entirely sure he’s actually aware of them all.” She glanced toward the elevator when it began to move before looking back at Stiles expectantly.

Stiles nodded. He put the food in the center of the table, changing the temperature on the oven and putting the brownies in to bake. 

The elevator doors opened, and Scott stumbled out, looking distracted. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “In-n-Out is always an awful idea for me. You need to buy me a shock collar and zap me every time I mention it.”

“No.” Stiles smirked. “I think I’ll just make you sit there and watch the rest of us eat brownies and ice cream. Why in the hell did you eat dinner before coming here to eat dinner?” 

Scott sighed. “Because I’m a moron.” He whined, dropping down onto a couch. “I don’t - I just really want…” He looked at Stiles pathetically. “I really want this spell to work and I went to In-n-Out and I was scared that they’d kick me out if I just sat there without getting anything so I ordered, like, six burgers and just kind of kept hoping that if I sat there, eating, and looking casual that I’d be there when the person I’m supposed to be with showed up, if she showed up, if she even came anywhere near In-n-Out and now I’m full of burgers and I kind of want to throw up and I’m still alone.”

“Yeah?” Stiles retorted. “Well, if you had come over here earlier, you’d know that Derek and I have a trip planned, to go to London with you and see if you find someone there. Sure, it’s long distance, in theory. But if someone is meant to be with you, then they will be. And you’d have a fuller wallet and an emptier stomach, but you never have been all that great at actually talking to me when you really should.” 

Scott slumped even more. “I know.” He mumbled. “I feel like shit, dude. I really do. I kind of want to cry into the carpet.” He paused, looking down at the floor of the loft. “Into the cement.” He amended.

Allison sighed, putting a hand over her eyes before getting on her phone and calling Lydia. “Are you going to be here soon? Scott is getting weepy and overindulged in burgers. He says he’s contemplating crying into the floor.”

“Yes, of course. I got sidetracked. I’ll be right there.” Lydia grabbed her keys and walked out to her car. “Do I need to pick anyone up?” 

“I don’t think so?” Allison murmured, sounding relieved. “I mostly just really want you here.”

Lydia laughed. “Okay, I’ll be there in about five minutes.” She hung up. 

Stiles frowned. “You know, if nobody is going to show up on time, or at all, then what the fuck is the point of any of this?” He glared at Scott. 

Scott held his hands up. “I’m sorry!” He blurted. “I didn’t encourage anyone not to show up on time, I figured I’d be the last one here.”

Allison looked up, and then glanced at Stiles when the elevator’s motor sounded again. “Okay, hey, look.” She gestured. “They’re here, see?”

Derek walked in when the elevator stopped, carrying a bag from the grocery store, and followed by Isaac, Erica and Boyd. He froze when he looked up and caught Stiles’ gaze. “I didn’t do it.” He said immediately.

“For future reference.” Stiles said calmly, his gaze going from one person to the next. “When I say to be somewhere at a certain time, that doesn’t mean half an hour later.” 

Erica looked apologetically at him, ducking her head. “I’m sorry. It was my fault, I was, um…” She trailed off, clearing her throat and looking uncomfortable. “A… thing. Happened. To me. That… happens, uh. Regularly. Every month.”

Stiles’ irritation faded and he nodded. “Okay. I understand that. Maybe not firsthand, but yeah. I just have this whole thing about people not being where the hell they should be, when they should be. I learned how to ride a bike because my mom forgot to pick me up a few times, before she ended up being hospitalized.” 

Erica’s face fell, and she promptly moved closer to him, burying her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry.” She murmured. “I’ll call from now on. I’ll text, I’ll… uh, page? Is paging still a thing? I’ll do it, if it is.”

Scott swallowed, looking down. “I - me, too. I’m sorry, man. I really am.”

Isaac looked equally chastised, his shoulders slumping a little. “Same. I’m sorry.”

Boyd shrugged. “At least we showed up.” He glanced at the table. “You made all of this?” 

“I did.” Stiles muttered. “Scott’s not eating, so you guys can have a little extra.” 

Lydia walked into the apartment, ignoring everyone and taking a seat at the table. 

Derek cleared his throat and walked over to the freezer, placing the ice cream inside before he made his way back to the table and sat down across from Lydia. He looked up at Stiles and smiled carefully. “It smells fantastic.” He told him. “Thank you.”

Erica slowly made her way to the table as well, nodding. Her stomach growled loudly as she gazed at the food. “It smells _amazing_ ,” she agreed, her eyes locked on the chicken.

Isaac’s hands twitched a little as he sat, trying to keep himself from reaching for the food before Stiles did, some secondary instinct telling him that, as alpha, Stiles was entitled to eat first.

Allison took her seat next to Lydia, watching the others silently and with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Stiles sat down and got himself chicken and rice, not interested in the broccoli just yet. He waved a hand at Scott. “Even if you’re not eating, you can still sit here. Come on. Jackson and, uh, Theo? They’re supposed to be here at some point, but they might still be on London time or whatever.” 

Scott nodded and moved toward the table, sitting down at the end. 

Allison leaned forward, watching Stiles. “So… how do we approach this?” She asked. “When they get here, I mean? Rather, how do you want us to?”

“I think that we should just be ready to defend ourselves.” Stiles admitted. “But Jackson says that things are different now. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

Derek hummed, nodding. “We’ll all be on guard, regardless. There’s no telling what… uh, Theo is capable of now, and Jackson is… not a known quantity to us anymore.”

“Entity.” Lydia corrected, smiling unapologetically at Derek. 

Stiles glanced from one to the other, then went back to eating his dinner, lost in thought. If he did say something to Derek, it would probably just be a waste of time.

Derek looked up at Lydia and stared blankly at her for several beats. “Entity.” He repeated, and then returned to serving himself without another word of acknowledgement. 

Lydia’s smile widened as she cut her chicken into bite-sized pieces. “What movie are we watching tonight?” 

“Mean Girls.” Stiles muttered. “Since Erica’s back and that’s her favorite.” He looked up at Boyd. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

“E.T.” Boyd looked around the table, silently daring anyone to laugh. 

Scott brightened. “Cool. I like The Goonies.”

“Clueless.” Allison suggested. “Or Ten Things I Hate About You.”

Stiles grinned. “The Sandlot.” 

Derek straightened, and then looked down, smiling to himself. “Angels in the Outfield.” He looked up at the rest of them. “Oh, come on. Christopher Lloyd as an angel? It’s hilarious.”

Allison couldn’t help giggling at his defensiveness.

“Sixteen Candles.” Lydia murmured. “Maybe someone should be writing these down?” 

“On it.” Isaac waved a hand, looking down at his phone and typing furiously. He paused, then looked up. “Back to the Future, by the way. Speaking of Christopher Lloyd, I mean.”

“I can’t believe none of you have even _thought_ of saying Indiana Jones. Hello? Raiders?” Jackson piped up from the doorway, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh, probably because Han Solo could kick Indiana Jones’ ass?” Stiles smirked. “Come sit down and eat.” He set the pan of brownies on the table, then sat back down. 

“Hi, by the way.” Jackson snorted, moving further into the loft and looking around. “That’d be an interesting situation, and I kind of want to know the outcome of that, Han Solo versus Indiana Jones.” He took a seat, ignoring the way half of the pack was staring warily at him, and proceeded to serve himself.

Allison stared at him for a long moment, and then shook her head, grinning faintly. She glanced at Stiles and added, “Star Wars. Scott, you will watch it.”

Scott looked away from Jackson and up at Allison like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide. “What?”

“For fuck’s sake, even I’ve seen that.” Theo muttered. He stayed back, near the doorway. “If I come over there, are you guys going to try to stab me?” 

“Come over here anyway.” Jackson said firmly. “They’re looking at me like I’m going to drip venom all over them, maybe it’ll keep them from stabbing you if they think I’ll paralyze them.”

Theo laughed and walked across the room, sitting down by Jackson. 

“Nobody is looking at you like that,” Stiles protested, watching as Theo helped himself to dinner. “Are you guys staying here now, or is this just temporary?” 

“Temporary.” Jackson replied, taking a bite of chicken. “We’re just visiting. We’ve got school, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, and schools exist all over the world.” Stiles pointed out. “But okay. I was just curious.” He finished his food, then stood up to use the serving spoon to get himself some cheese-covered broccoli. “We’re watching Mean Girls after dinner.” 

Erica not so subtly punched the air and muttered, “Yes!” under her breath, her fork flying out of her grip and landing on the floor. “Fuck.”

Isaac snorted and handed his fork over to her before he stood up and picked hers up off the floor, heading over to the sink to wash it. 

“Sounds good.” Jackson said, after watching the other two for a beat. His eyes flicked up at Stiles with a smirk. “Do we need to wear pink?”

“It’s Friday, not Wednesday.” Stiles laughed. “Pay attention.” 

Jackson snorted, taking another bite of chicken and following it up with the cheesy broccoli. He pointed at the plate after he swallowed. “You made this?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “I cook a lot.” 

“It’s really good.” Theo blurted. “I haven’t been eating actual food for very long, but I like this.” 

Jackson gazed at his boyfriend fondly, smiling as he reached out to pat his hand against Theo’s knee.

Derek hummed. “Glad you like it. Stiles is a great cook.”

Stiles grinned. “Thanks.” He told Derek. He resolved to have the conversation that he had been wavering about since Derek had left to get ice cream, but he didn’t want to pull Derek out of his own apartment while Theo was around, since Stiles didn’t trust him. A new name and a new face didn’t change what the nogitsune was, or what he had done. He sat through Mean Girls, laughing with the other pack members throughout the movie, then did his part to help clean up after that, dawdling as he waited for everyone else to leave. 

Erica leaned in to hug him tightly. “Thank you for dinner, and dessert.” She told him, and grinned. “And for my favorite movie. You’re the best.”

Stiles hugged her in return. “I know I am.” He teased. “It’s about time someone else got that.” 

Erica shook her head. “I always knew that.” She told him, tugging lightly at the collar of his shirt. “Even if I was a jerk to you sometimes, I always knew you were awesome. After all, no one else here can be my Batman.” She paused, tilting her head. “Although with his broodiness and backstory, Derek does come pretty close.”

“I know it.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t think he’d appreciate that comparison, though.” He reached up to push a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m not mad at you about earlier, okay?” 

Erica grabbed his hand with both of hers, pressing his palm against her cheek and closing her eyes. “Okay.” She said softly, and visibly relaxed against him.

“Do you need a ride home?” Stiles looked around the apartment, trying to figure out if he had forgotten anything, left even a crumb where it didn’t belong. 

Erica shook her head. “No. Boyd’s got me.” She murmured, then lifted up onto the tips of her toes to kiss Stiles’ cheek. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome. I think this really should be a weekly thing, you know? Friday nights are pack nights. I’m not wearing pink, though.” Stiles grinned. “Good night.” 

Erica grinned back at him. “Good night… alpha.” She turned and wandered out of the apartment, calling out, “Good night, Derek!” over her shoulder.

Stiles started to fidget when he was the last person left, knowing that he had to say something. “I wanted to talk to you about earlier.” He began. “Because ignoring it isn’t really going to work, I don’t think.” 

Derek stiffened a little, glancing at Stiles, clearing his throat. “Um. Alright.” He murmured. “I… what do you…” He took a deep breath. “Why don’t we sit down?” He suggested, gesturing toward the couch.

Stiles nodded and sat down, looking at Derek. “I shouldn’t have just stood there and done nothing. You were hugging me and I know that’s not something that’s, um, the easiest thing for you. Or at least, I’m assuming. It wasn’t that long ago that you were okay with me putting a hand on your shoulder, and the first time I did it, I thought you might rip my arm off.” 

“It’s… fine.” Derek mumbled, looking down. “I, uh. I got ahead of myself, I don’t… really know what came over me, and you weren’t comfortable, so I obviously overstepped boundaries. I… I’m sorry.”

“The thing is, I was comfortable. I should have hugged you back. And that’s probably something we should talk about, at the risk of me shoving my foot so far into my mouth that I can taste my kneecap, you know?” Stiles snorted. 

“Considering I’ve seen how flexible you are, I would be really impressed to see that.” Derek said, blinking at Stiles. He exhaled, smiling a little and rubbing a hand over his eyes as his cheeks turned red. “I mean… What do we even say?”

“Well, we start with... are you okay with hugging, or was that a fluke?” Stiles asked quietly. “There’s no wrong answer.” 

“I’m okay with it.” Derek said softly. “Really.”

Stiles smiled. “Then we’re hugging from now on. Not all the time, but when you want to. I don’t like the idea of ever making someone feel pressured. Benefits of being the Sheriff’s kid, I guess?” He paused. “Well, I mean, I should amend that. I make Scott do things all the time. Just not, uh, sexual stuff.” He made a face. “Not that hugging is sexual.” 

“Sometimes it can be.” Derek murmured. “Depends on the intent behind it.”

“Okay?” Stiles nodded. “Fair point. Was that your intent, earlier?” He bit his lip, worried that he had gone overboard. 

“Hugging you?” Derek asked. “Or doing a shakedown by offering hugs out of nowhere?”

“Hugging me.” Stiles said quickly, grateful that Derek had misunderstood. He figured the lie would be okay. 

Derek studied him, smiling faintly. He nodded. “I meant to hug you, yes. You looked like you needed it and, well, I did too.”

“So hugging is now on the table, then.” Stiles murmured. “Do you want a hug now?” 

Derek laughed softly, turning toward Stiles with gentle eyes. “Would you?” He asked. “We both have to want it before one of us… uh. Gives it.”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “I always want hugs, honestly.” 

Derek was quiet for a beat, and then admitted softly, “I do, too.”

Stiles moved closer to Derek, wrapping his arms around him. He rested his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “I’d say you don’t have to ask, but I don’t want to ever overstep.” He murmured. 

Derek relaxed against Stiles, lifting his arms up to wrap around the younger man with a contented sigh. “You wouldn’t be overstepping.” He said softly, nuzzling his nose against Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles exhaled softly, closing his eyes and fighting his urge to turn his head. “I’ll remember that from now on, then.”

Derek smiled against Stiles’ neck. “Good.” He closed his eyes as well, perfectly content to just stay there, close to Stiles.


	7. The Alpha

Stiles had decided not to bother mentioning to Derek that he wanted to kiss him. If it happened later on, that would be great. But Stiles wasn’t going to push, and he had promised himself, for Derek’s sake, that he would let the older man take his time with things. The hug had felt really good, though. He thought about it as he cleaned up his house, loading the dishwasher and making plans for the next few dinners he would make for the pack. He picked up his phone to call Scott, but changed his mind before he dialed. He stared at Derek’s name for a little while, then shook his head at himself and weighed his options. Scott wouldn't want to hear about Derek, and he didn’t want to bother Derek. Allison had been great to talk to over the last few weeks, but Stiles still felt a dividing wall that had ‘Scott’s ex-girlfriend’ spray-painted across it in big, red letters, when it came to Allison. He didn’t feel like talking to Kira anyway, but he stopped short of deleting her phone number from his contacts. Lydia would outline a clear path that she would expect Stiles to follow, and give him a judgmental stare if he didn’t. Erica had her own shit to deal with, and he wasn’t that close to Boyd, Danny or Isaac. He set the phone aside, getting up and pacing his room. If he called Jackson, it would be obvious that he had already rejected the idea of calling everyone else. He wasn’t talking to Theo, ever. Not if he could avoid it. And he didn’t want to have the bisexuality discussion with his dad again. It hadn’t gone well the last time. “Fuck.” He muttered, picking up his phone and calling Peter before he could talk himself out of it. 

The phone rang for several moments before Peter deigned to pick up. “Why, Stiles. How may I possibly be of service to you?”

“You know what Derek was like, before.” Stiles began. “Tell me.” 

There was another pause. “Before.” Peter repeated. “I’m assuming you mean ‘before the fire.’ Why so curious?”

“I don’t think it escaped your attention that I’m interested in him.” Stiles said bluntly. “And I didn’t know him until after. Not now, but I mean, the night of the fire, and the day after. I know he’s had a rough time, with Kate and then that English teacher from hell, and I don’t want to push him toward anything, you know? He deserves better. But I thought, if I could maybe show him that just because he’s different, that doesn’t mean everything about him is? He liked basketball, right? What else?” 

Peter was silent for several beats, like he was debating on whether or not to indulge Stiles’ interest. Eventually, he exhaled and said, “He was… very much like Scott, actually. Played the guitar - played lots of instruments, really. All of them did. Talia wanted them well-rounded. Loved animals. Still does. He cried the first time he shifted and killed a squirrel.” Peter smirked faintly. “He was five, so we’ll let that slide. Still smarter than Scott. Much smarter. He had straight As for the first two years of high school. Probably would’ve had straight As for his junior year, too, but…” he cleared his throat. “Well. You know.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured, feeling regretful that he and Derek were so far apart in age. He could have helped, he could have done something. He was sure of that. Instead of letting himself dwell on his frustration, he latched onto the one thing he could pick apart successfully. “Scott’s not stupid.” He began. “He doesn’t make the best choices, but who the hell among us does?” 

“I can name several people, you, Chris Argent, and his spawn among them, that make infinitely better decisions than your friend.” Peter told him seriously. “I’ve known Chris for years. His brat, not so much. And I’ve been aware of you for quite awhile. There’s a reason I still curse myself for not biting you first, instead of Scott. And at the very least, I’m allowed to hold a grudge against Scott when the little upstart refuses to acknowledge the gift I gave him and then suddenly lays claim to my family’s land. It’s an insult, and I have no qualms about referring to him as stupid because of it.” He sounded sulky, like a boy Stiles’ age, by the time he finished. 

Stiles snorted, speaking in a whiny, nasal tone to mock Peter. “Mooom, Scott took my toy!” He sat down on his bed, laughing softly. “You attacked him. You bit him without his permission. You changed him. Throw some Freudian psychology in there and you as good as raped him, you know?” 

“Semantics.” Peter replied dismissively. “You called me to ask about my nephew. Am I done spilling Hale secrets?”

“No.” Stiles blurted. “Why did you give me an option? You didn’t give Scott an option.” 

“You do recall that when I bit Scott, I was out of my mind, correct?” Peter asked, frowning. “Granted, I was still insane by the time I offered you the bite, but I was becoming more aware of myself by then. Scott didn’t get a choice because I was a new alpha, and I needed a packmate immediately. I _chose_ you because I sensed something in you that could be good for my pack.”

“Like what, that I’m a dragon?” Stiles muttered, smirking. “Why exactly am I a dragon? I wasn’t bitten, and I know it was something to do with the nogitsune, but... why is this my form? Why not a fox or a wolf or I don’t know, a Pomeranian?” 

“Maybe it’s because of all the hot air you blow.” Peter muttered. “I don’t know why you are what you are. Ask the damn fox demon that occupied your meat suit. And yes, actually, I did sense that. Maybe not that you were a dragon, but that you had the potential to be a shifter.”

“I was pretty sure that being bitten would kill me.” Stiles mused. “I still believe that.” 

“And why is that?” Peter asked, frowning. 

“Because Scott’s a good person. He’s misguided a lot of the time and he’s kind of gullible, but he believes the best in everyone. I’m the opposite. It stands to reason that as good as the bite turned out for him, it would do the opposite for me. Maybe I'd go dark, maybe I’d die. It’s not worth the risk. I mean, I don’t even need it now, anyway. But the idea of leaving my dad all by himself... I think you can understand why that would suck.” 

Peter sighed uncomfortably. “Yes. Well. Being a good person or a bad person or any kind of person is not indicative of whether or not the bite would turn you evil. Just look at Lydia’s pathetic little ex. He’s a jackass and he probably never should’ve received the bite, but he isn’t evil. He’s just a dick.” He grumbled under his breath. “And no one knows why bite rejection happens, but I know what I sensed from you, and I knew that you had the potential to become a shifter with little to no problem.”

“You know, if you’d lead with that kind of thing more often, people might just be inclined to trust you.” Stiles murmured. “Do you have a pack?” 

“No.” Peter replied sharply. “Not unless you you and your little group of super friends suddenly count me as pack. I’m fine on my own.”

“Nobody is.” Stiles argued. “That’s the point I was just making. And you know I’m right, or you never would have bitten Scott in the first damned place.” 

“I didn’t bite Scott for companionship, for Christ’s sake.” Peter muttered. “An alpha needs betas, especially a new alpha. It has to do with strength, not wanting someone to cuddle with.”

“Hey, nobody was asking you to cuddle.” Stiles retorted. “I’d rather sit, naked, on a cactus. I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt for you and Derek to get to know one another again, you know? Instead of you plotting and him feeling defensive.” 

Peter grumbled under his breath. “Mmhmm. Well. I’d say it’s up to him, then.”

“And he’d probably just say that it’s up to me.” Stiles murmured. “Just think about it and come by on Friday, over to Derek’s, if you want to be there. It’s not an obligation or even a demand that you join the pack, it’s you spending time with your nephew.” 

Peter didn’t say anything right away, and when he did, he let out another put-upon sigh like before. “As long as he has no plans to toss me out on my ear, we’re fine.”

“I’m pretty sure that if he does throw you out, it won’t be on your ear.” Stiles grinned. “Maybe something that rhymes with that, though.” 

“Cute. I’m hanging up now.” Peter snorted. “Have fun wooing my nephew.”

“I plan to.” Stiles said earnestly.

**

Stiles felt anxious on Friday night. He didn’t want to spend too much time making dinner, so he picked up some hamburger meat, cheese, and the usual toppings for burgers: onions, avocados, lettuce, tomatoes, ketchup, mustard and barbecue sauce. He figured that was plenty, but he couldn’t resist buying a few bags of potatoes, to make french fries. He drove over to Derek’s and knocked on the door, smiling to himself. 

Derek opened the door and smiled slowly at the sight of Stiles on the other side of the door. “Hi.” He greeted, and stepped to the side, wordlessly inviting the other man in. He sniffed subtly and tilted his head, staring at the bags. “Hamburgers?”

“Yeah.” Stiles grinned. “I think I’ll just make some of them medium rare, and some well-done, and then leave everything out for everyone to make their own burger. It’ll be a lot easier on me than last week’s dinner. I didn’t bring a dessert this time.” 

Derek laughed. “That’s alright. I’ll send everyone a text and let them know to bring sides and dessert, and that they’re expected to contribute to dinner tonight.” He casually took one of the bags from Stiles and set his hand on the small of the other man’s back, heading toward the kitchen. “Tell me what you need me to help with. Even if it’s just putting plates in a stack somewhere in the dining room, or clearing the living room just so that if there’s a fight, these guys don’t get ketchup and god knows what else on my damn carpet.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that.” Stiles looked worried. He turned and hugged Derek impulsively. “Burgers don’t take that long to cook. Hug me.” 

Derek let out a small noise like a whine, pitched low, and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, hugging the younger man back tightly.

Stiles closed his eyes, smiling to himself. He definitely needed the affection, since he was about to upset Derek and he knew it. After a long moment, he pulled back a little and looked at his crush. “I invited Peter to dinner tonight.” He licked his lips nervously. “Because I know he’s an ass, but he’s still your uncle and I didn’t like Scott ostracizing you, I don’t want to do that to someone else. Even if it is Peter. He insists that he doesn’t need a pack, but he’s a fucking liar.” 

Derek froze in Stiles’ arms, frowning deeply. He stayed silent, staring hard at the younger man. After a beat, he shut his eyes and then said, “If he causes any trouble, he’s out. If he makes any comments directed at anyone that insults them or embarrasses them, he’s out. I hope he’s aware of that. We’re both Hales - I’ll acknowledge that, but I don’t really care that he’s my mother’s brother. He still murdered my sister. And this is my home - if he doesn’t respect the people I invite to stay for dinner, he doesn’t deserve to be here, and he can find his own way out.”

Stiles nodded. “He already knows that.” He set the grocery bag on the counter and rubbed his sore wrist, where the plastic handles had started to dig into his skin. “If you want to just form the hamburger meat into patties while I cook it, I can get started.” He set the cheese and a few other things in the fridge, getting a skillet out of the cabinet and turning on the overhead fan. 

Derek nodded, and casually brushed his hand over Stiles’ arm as he walked past, draining the small amount of pain without a second thought before reaching for the hamburger meat. He stared at it for a moment, thinking, and then grabbed a few small containers of seasoning as well, pinching tiny amounts and sprinkling them over the meat before diving in with both hands and mixing everything together. He stayed quiet as he worked, just enjoying Stiles’ presence beside him.

Stiles smiled as he looked over at Derek. “I don’t really know what kind of music you like.” He licked his lips and told himself to stop feeling so nervous. Having asked Peter a few questions wasn’t the same as involving himself in espionage, but it felt like it. “The only thing I’ve ever heard you listening to was music in your car, and that was some weird dubstep thing, and that doesn’t count because it doesn’t mean you chose it. Unless it was like, the dubstep station. If such a thing exists. It probably does.” 

Derek huffed in laughter, his eyes on Stiles. “I’m honestly not sure if it does. I hope not, I’m not a fan. Or not much of one. There’s some things I’ll listen to, but I’m into everything. If I had a choice, I’d probably be listening to alternative music. Laura’s tastes ran weird - she would listen to everything from pop to country, and whatever was in between, and I guess there’s a part of me that was either brainwashed by her or is just trying to honor her favorites.”

“What songs or bands do you like, though?” Stiles picked up a bottle of olive oil and poured a small amount into the skillet, then picked up one of the patties and put it in the skillet. 

Derek shifted as he shaped the hamburger meat and placed them within Stiles’ reach. “I like a lot of stuff, really. Frank Sinatra, Elvis, a few country songs that I never really bothered figuring out the artist for… Led Zeppelin and Def Leppard. The Beatles and the Stones. Classical music, too. Tchaikovsky, Chopin and Mozart. Beethoven.” He glanced at Stiles again and smiled. “Like I said. Eclectic. If you’re looking for something more recent, though, I do like Green Day a lot. Soundgarden and Imagine Dragons, too.” He paused a moment, thinking. “My favorite songs, though, are probably _Let It Be_ and _Ramble On_.”

Stiles grinned. “I like those, too. Not a lot of Green Day. At least, not their new stuff. I listen to a lot of metal, too.” 

Derek grinned back. “What bands?”

“Judas Priest and Metallica.” Stiles laughed. 

“Not much of a fan of Judas Priest, but I’m all for Metallica.” Derek chuckled. He finished shaping the last patty and washed his hands in the sink before coming up beside Stiles and placing his chin on the teen’s shoulder without thinking.

Stiles grinned again. He was pretty sure he was blushing. His cheeks felt warm, and it had nothing to do with the stove. He spoke softly, terrified of alienating Derek when they were getting along so well. “What would you do if I kissed you? I’m asking because I won’t do it, if you don’t want me to.” 

Derek hesitated, but when his response came, it wasn’t in the form of words but in action. He exhaled slowly, and slid his arms around Stiles’ waist from behind, lifting his head from the other man’s shoulder and craning his neck to place his face just that much closer to Stiles’, his eyes flicking in all directions from the top of Stiles’ head to the tip of his nose, from the cut of his jaw to the pout of his bottom lip.

Stiles stared back at Derek, then leaned in slowly, wondering if the werewolf could hear how fast his heart was beating. 

Derek pressed forward, closer, his eyes wide and locked on Stiles’ face. His lips barely grazed against Stiles’ when the elevator began to clank and whir. He drew back a little, scowling before dropping his head to Stiles’ shoulder once more. “Of course, _this_ week they decide to be on time.” He muttered.

Stiles laughed softly. “I won’t go anywhere, afterward. It can wait. Okay?” 

Derek nodded, giving Stiles another gentle squeeze and leaning in to press his lips to Stiles’ cheek before separating from him. “Why do I feel like this is going to be Scott?” He muttered as he moved toward the elevator.

Stiles laughed. He put the last burger on the plate with the other well-done patties, then followed Derek. “Because he’s probably avoided eating all day, just to make up for how much he ate last week.” 

Derek’s lips twitched in amusement as the elevator door opened, and Scott stumbled out. He blinked in surprise when Allison followed behind him, side-by-side with Erica and Isaac. “What…”

Erica looked up at Derek and Stiles and smiled crookedly. “We carpooled.”

Stiles laughed. “Of course you did.” He nodded. “And I’m guessing that Lydia, Boyd, Jackson and Theo are coming up next?” 

“You’re probably right.” Allison grinned faintly. “I’m kind of glad that I wasn’t stuck in the elevator with them. And also disappointed, because Lydia versus Theo might have been entertaining as hell.”

Stiles smiled back at her. “I’d better go see if Derek has enough shampoo, so Lydia can wash the blood out of her hair.” 

“It’s in the cabinet under the sink.” Derek teased, looking back at him with a grin. He lifted an arm, not looking the least bit surprised when Erica slammed into him.

Stiles laughed softly. 

Lydia stepped off the elevator, shaking her head, her lips pressed together tightly as she walked into the apartment. 

Allison maneuvered herself so that she was right by Lydia’s side. “Do you want some tea?” She asked quietly. “Let’s make you some tea. Or should I keep searing hot liquids away right now?”

“Tea would be great.” Lydia murmured. “You know what’s incredibly pathetic? Some... faux boy trying to irritate me by making out with my ex in front of me. I don’t actually miss Jackson in that regard.” 

Allison shook her hand, her hand lightly rubbing Lydia’s back as she guided the other woman toward the kitchen. “Well, you said it. Faux boy. Everything he knows about being a boy, about being a human, he stole from Stiles.” She shook her head. “Trying to provoke jealousy out of you is especially a stupid move, whether you cared enough to be jealous or not.” She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for a cabinet and opening it to find the tea. “Loose or bagged? Derek’s got all kinds in here, apparently.”

“Loose. Something floral. Jasmine, maybe.” Lydia looked hopeful. 

Allison smiled gently back at Lydia and winked. “I’ve got you.” She promised.

Theo smirked at Lydia, but sat down on the living room couch, away from her. He was smiling to himself when Stiles walked up behind him and hit him in the back of the head. “What the fuck?” 

“I should be asking you that.” Stiles muttered. 

Scott sat down on the other side of the living room, staring at Theo and Jackson with a deep frown. He glanced at Lydia, looking concerned before staring back at the other two, and then looking up at Stiles. He opened his mouth to ask a question and was promptly interrupted by Jackson.

“Don’t fucking smack my boyfriend.” Jackson snapped at Stiles.

“Tell your boyfriend not to treat my friend like shit, then.” Stiles shook his head. “If he can’t behave himself, he can get the fuck out. If you don’t like that, sayonara.” He looked at Theo. “I’m pretty sure you understood that, right?” 

“Jesus, Stilinski, he was kissing me, that’s it!” Jackson scowled. “It had nothing to do with any of your friends and more to do with him and me. How is that a problem? How is that even any of your business?”

“I did it to piss Lydia off.” Theo admitted. “I was hungry.” 

Jackson turned to look at Theo, and then promptly smacked the back of his hand against Theo’s shoulder, sighing.

“Sorry.” Theo murmured, pouting. He looked over the back of the couch. “Sorry, Lydia!”

Lydia scowled and ignored Theo. 

Jackson looked over at Lydia, even as he put his arm around Theo, and inclined his head just a bit, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Lydia.” He murmured.

Allison stepped out of the kitchen a few moments later and settled down beside Lydia, looking threatening and protective of the redhead.

Lydia gave Allison a grateful smile. She looked over at Jackson. “You’ve always been short-sighted when it comes to flaws in people you date.” She shrugged, sighing. 

Stiles looked around at his pack. “Burgers.” He called out, pointing to the platters of cooked meat. “I got cheese, onions, tomatoes, and avocado. It’s all in the fridge. You guys showed up early this time, so I didn’t have everything ready. And also, there’s no dessert.” 

Derek looked vaguely embarrassed, his eyes going to Stiles, even as his lips twitched up into a smile. “Because I got distracted and forgot to send out the text telling all of you to bring sides and desserts. We’ll implement that next week, yeah?”

Scott nodded. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I mean, I can’t bake to save my life, but maybe I can get my mom to fry up some fruit empanadas?”

“Oh god, you’d better bring a lot of those.” Stiles murmured. “And be prepared to roll me into the elevator when I’m too fat to walk myself anywhere.” He smiled at Derek, trying to remind himself to have patience for the next few hours. 

Theo got up and opened the fridge, getting things out and staring down at them for a few seconds. He nodded to himself and got a knife, cutting the onions and tomatoes into slices. After he finished, he looked up and made eye contact with Stiles, who had been openly watching him do what he could to help. “What?” 

“Honestly?” Stiles began. “I’m really glad that you’re helping.” He began. “But I’m going to be even more glad when you rinse that knife off and leave it in the sink.” 

Theo sighed. “I don’t know what more I can do to convince you that I’m trying to be different.” 

“You just treated Lydia like crap, to feed on her anger.” Stiles pointed out. “So I guess that means you’re a work in progress?” 

“Isn’t everybody?” Theo grabbed two plates, making a burger for himself and one for Jackson. “Isn’t it better if I feed on a little bit of irritation, instead of treating Scott’s internal injuries like they’re a buffet?” 

“You shouldn’t do it at all.” Lydia looked up at Theo. 

“You didn’t make me stop being a nogitsune.” Theo looked around for Jackson, feeling overwhelmed. He knew he deserved what he was getting, but he was trying his best to be a good person. Jackson seemed to be the only one who understood that. “I can’t stay healthy by only eating food. I’m _trying_ to be part of your pack. I’m trying to make it up to you in every way that I can. But I can’t stop being what I am. I would undo it, if I could. Jackson?” He knew he sounded terrified as he called out to his boyfriend, but he felt cornered and couldn’t move. 

Jackson was on his feet in a split second, wrapping his arm around Theo and pulling him close. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He murmured. “Just breathe, babe, in and out.” He ran his hand soothingly up and down Theo’s back and then scowled at the rest of them. “Seriously? Telling him he shouldn’t do what he needs to do to survive is like telling a vampire he can’t drink blood, or telling a duck not to quack.” He glared at Lydia. “Or telling you to act like a ditz and hide your intelligence. I was afraid this was going to happen. I didn’t want to come back to this shithole in the first place, I didn’t want to see any of you, but he convinced me to come. You know what evil he’s been up to since he came to London? He’s been studying. He got a GED, and now he’s taking college classes with me. It’s the perfect environment for him with so many frustrated and pissed off students milling around, he barely has to breathe around them before he’s satisfied. He’s learning to fucking cook. The angriest I’ve seen him get was when the tomato he was cutting up went skidding across the room and left a trail of tomato juice everywhere. And the only time I’ve seen him be a conniving, evil shit in recent memory was when some dumbass in Cardiff decided to photobomb us at the Shard.” He looked around at them intently. “But by all means, keep making him feel like shit for being something he can’t help being. Maybe while you’re at it, you can thank that dumb bitch of a kitsune that summoned him in the first place, yeah?”

Stiles held his hand up for silence, licking his lips. He could practically feel the tension in the room, and he wasn’t going to let himself think about why he was able to do that. As far as he was concerned, it was just a side-effect of being the alpha. “I’ve been thinking about that, too.” He admitted. “And I’ll deal with her when I have the time. I welcomed you both here for a reason, and it wasn’t to create problems with my pack. If you’d be willing, you could be part of that, too. I know you haven’t joined one in London.” He looked at Theo. “I’m guessing that you ended up with my anxiety when you cloned me, and that just didn’t go away, did it?” 

Theo shook his head, leaning against Jackson. “I did tell Jackson that I wanted to come back here.” He glanced away from Stiles, his gaze falling on the plates full of cooked hamburger meat. “Hey, how many of these did you...” He trailed off, counting them. “There’s enough for everyone to have two, but we’ve got four left over, so you’re expecting more people?” He looked up at Stiles. “Who’s coming here?” 

“Danny and Peter. Danny was supposed to come by last week, but that didn’t work out.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder. 

“You invited Peter Hale.” Lydia looked over at Allison. “We need to go. I don’t care what he has or hasn’t done to help out, recently. He always has his own agenda. I’m starting to think - never mind.” 

“Say it.” Stiles demanded. 

“You kicked Kira out.” Lydia murmured. “For one thing, and-” 

“Me?” Stiles laughed. “You told her to leave. You called her a bitch.” 

“You didn’t stop me.” Lydia protested. “That’s your job, as alpha.” 

“To boss all of you around and force you to do everything I say?” Stiles smirked, looking around the room. “Fine. Everyone, take off your clothes.” He muttered sarcastically, then looked back at Lydia. “I think you need to go home, regardless of whether that was your plan or not. Think about what you want from me. I’m not going to do everything you expect.” He turned toward Jackson and Theo. “What do you need, to be part of this? Obviously, we’re still working out a few things.” 

“Am I going to get my ass kicked if I say that argument helped me a little?” Theo’s gaze fell on Scott. “Hey. I owe you an apology for everything.” 

Scott looked a little bewildered, blinking rapidly and looking at Stiles for a second before he looked back at Theo. “Um… F-forgiven?” He said hesitantly, furrowing his brows together.

Theo laughed softly. “No, but I’m trying to be.” He nodded. “I, um, took a philosophy class. It helped a little bit, figuring out morality and all that shit.” 

“Philosophy?” Scott asked, his eyes widening.

Jackson smirked. “He’s a model student. Smartest one in the class.” He said proudly.

Erica looked intrigued. “So what do you think of it?” She asked. “I mean, has your outlook changed at all since you’ve taken the class, and what have you learned so far?” She paid no attention to the door to the loft quietly creaking open.

“Well, I actually had to audit it, or whatever you call it.” Theo smiled. “Since I started about a month before the end of the semester. But I read Jackson’s textbook when I got bored, which happened surprisingly often. Anyway, I’m kind of obsessed with Plato.” He laughed. 

Isaac sat forward. “Why Plato, and not Socrates?” He asked curiously.

“Plato is the reason we have colleges and universities.” Theo smiled. 

Lydia glanced toward the door, then sighed. “I’m not leaving.” She told Allison. “I have as much right to be here as he does.” 

Allison was silent for a moment, and then reached out her hand, palm up, for Lydia’s hand, staring at her best friend. “We’ll just ignore him.” She said quietly. “I’m right by your side.”

The door opened fully, and Peter stepped inside warily, looking around at the gathered group before his eyes settled on Derek.

Derek stiffened when his eyes locked with Peter’s, and he looked desperately uncomfortable at the older man’s presence. “Have a seat.” He said, his voice tight. “And you know my rules.”

Peter’s upper lip started to lift in a sneer before he stopped and grimaced. He carefully took a seat away from the others, but close enough to the food so that he could reach without having to ask a favor from anyone. “Yes.” He muttered.

Stiles moved, sitting down by Peter. “You missed the fireworks.” He snorted. “How are you?” 

Peter leaned back, glancing at Stiles with a wry smile. “Oh, you know. Hated, feared… hungry. The usual.”

“If I hadn’t just eaten two cheeseburgers, I’d agree with all of that.” Stiles glanced over at Lydia, rolling his eyes, before he looked back at Peter. “Maybe not feared. Definitely hated, though. So, yeah. One out of three.” 

Peter shrugged his shoulders and reached forward quickly, snatching a burger off the plate quickly. He stared at the toppings and condiments in contemplation, then ignored them and bit into the burger, plain as it was. “I don’t care.” He admitted, once he’d finished chewing. “Someone has to be hated, and it’s not as though I give a damn what anyone thinks of me.”

“Uh, yes, you do.” Stiles nodded. “Explain something to me. Are all of you Hales emotionally-constipated?” 

Peter tilted his head, thinking. “Probably, yes.”

Stiles twisted around in his seat to look at Derek. He got up, walking past everyone and going out to the balcony. He was beginning to regret being in charge of the pack, and was considering just giving control to Lydia. Everything he had read about dragons portrayed them as solitary creatures. It wasn’t something he wanted for himself, but he couldn’t argue with facts. 

Derek watched Stiles go, frowning, and then glared at Peter briefly before rising and making his way after Stiles. He stepped out, placing his hand lightly on Stiles’ back. “Hey.” He said softly, furrowing his brow. 

Stiles glanced at Derek. “Hi.” He murmured. “I’m just giving Lydia control of the pack.” He blurted. “I suck at this. I’m inviting people into your apartment without your permission and that’s not okay, and half of the pack hates the other half, and the people I want to join? Most of the pack doesn’t even want them here.” 

Derek tugged Stiles into a hug, keeping his arms on the wings of Stiles’ shoulders. “It takes awhile for pack to get used to each other.” He said quietly. “You can’t expect miracles, not when half of the pack has traumatic history with the other half. It’s… it just takes time, that’s all. And the only way to get over that hurdle is to do exactly what you’re doing.” He sighed, stroking Stiles’ back lightly. “I know I’m part of the problem, with both Peter and Theo. I’ve been biting back my words when Theo speaks because if it’ll make the pack stronger, having him and Jackson join is worth more than my issues with him. And my issues with Peter run deeper than my issues with Theo, because Peter is family. I might not ever be okay with him, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be around him. He’s my only living family. He’s my last connection to them. Eventually, I might be able to be alright with him being around, but it’ll take time.” Lifting his eyes to look into Stiles’, he murmured, “You have my permission to invite anyone you like here. You’re my alpha. And you’re…” He cleared his throat, his ears turning red. “You might be something more. If you want to be. If the people you want here, if the people you want to join the pack have your trust to do so, then they have mine, too. Not implicitly - I’m always going to be watchful, just to make sure that no one tries to use you and abuse your trust - but if you’re fine with them being here and potentially being back, then so am I.”

Stiles nodded. He glanced through the window, at the pack, then looked back at Derek. “I want.” He smiled faintly. “I’m leaving early, though.” His lips twitched, and he leaned in, kissing Derek. “There, I won’t be missing out on that.” He teased. “I have a lot of things I need to do.” He patted Derek’s shoulder, going back into the apartment. He did a double-take when he saw Danny helping himself to dinner. “Of course you show up now. Okay, everybody, stand up. Grab your food, leave the plates. Get out. I’m cutting things short tonight. See you next Friday, right at seven. Don’t be even thirty seconds late, or you won’t eat. Got it? Bye.” He opened Derek’s front door and waved a hand toward the hallway. “Out.” 

There was some confused muttering from Erica and Isaac as they stood, both burgers in hand, and made their way out, with Scott looking equally confused and following behind them. 

Allison followed slowly, her eyes gentle as she looked at Stiles. After a moment, she reached out and squeezed his hand lightly, giving him a small smile before continuing past him.

Lydia and Boyd walked out after Allison, and Stiles turned toward the people who weren’t in his pack. “Seriously, leave. I’m trying to get out of here and I can’t do that while people I invited over are still here. That’s fucking rude.” 

Jackson scoffed, shaking his head. He kept his arm wrapped tightly around Theo’s waist, leading him toward the door. “Let’s go, babe.” He murmured quietly.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Theo called out over his shoulder as he left with Jackson. “Next week, too?” 

“Yeah, if you want to be here.” Stiles smiled to himself. 

“That’s still up for debate, but the food is worth coming back for.” Danny nodded to Stiles. 

Peter stood as well, tension obvious in his posture. He cleared his throat and inclined his head at Derek. “Nephew.” He murmured, and then looked at Stiles for a long moment. “Whelpling. I’ll be seeing you.” He excused himself, glancing back at Derek once more, before leaving.

Stiles turned toward Derek once everyone else was gone. He sighed softly, but he wasn’t sure if he was remorseful or relieved at his actions over the last few minutes. 

Derek moved closer to him, giving Stiles a small, tentative smile and reaching a hand out to grasp Stiles’.

Stiles smiled back. “I do need to go.” He said quietly. “But you didn’t say or do anything wrong. I just have to work on a few things and I’d rather get started and get them over with.” 

“I understand.” Derek murmured. “And if you need my help, just let me know. With a text.” His lips twitched. “Or maybe a roar?”

Stiles laughed. “Either way, yeah. I can do that.” He took a step back, but didn’t let go of Derek’s hand. “I’ll see you. Probably before Monday.” 

“Definitely before Monday.” Derek nodded. “Or anytime before and after that. I’m not picky.” He gazed at Stiles for a moment longer, and then swayed forward to kiss the younger man, his free hand lifting up to cup Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles kissed back, his free hand resting on Derek’s arm. He pulled away, smiling. Out on the balcony, he had realized that he wasn’t doing enough. Friday night dinners weren’t going to erase years of problems. Not only that, but Stiles had a few things to take care of, for himself. He just wasn’t sure that the weekend would be something he could survive. “Tomorrow.” He laughed, letting go of Derek’s hand finally and walking away, toward the elevator. 

Derek grinned faintly, letting out a soft laugh as he watched Stiles walk away. “Tomorrow.” He repeated quietly.

Peter stood silently, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against Stiles’ bright blue Jeep. He intended to find out what the young dragon had planned that he would have cut the all-important pack dinner short for. At first, he had assumed that Stiles had kicked everyone out in order to do unspeakable things with Derek - Peter shuddered - but he’d not heard any skipping in Stiles’ heartbeat to indicate that anything he’d said had been a lie. Now it was just a matter of grilling the younger man.

Stiles’ steps faltered for a second, when he saw Peter. He shook his head and walked over to him. “What?” 

“‘What?’” Peter mimicked him, scoffing. “You know why I’m waiting for you. You know what I expect. What are you planning?”

“I’m going to see if I can fully shift. And fly.” Stiles admitted. “Want to come watch me break my face?” 

Peter stared at him, blinking slowly before grinning and baring his teeth. “That would be incredibly enjoyable. Yes, yes, I would like that very much.”

“Okay.” Stiles got into the Jeep, fastening his seatbelt and starting it. 

Peter made a face, but sighed and climbed into the passenger seat. He leaned back, staring at Stiles. “Where exactly are we going to go for this?”

“The Preserve.” Stiles glanced over at Peter as he drove out of the parking lot. “I’m not flying around downtown Beacon Hills.” 

“But you will eventually?” Peter asked, his eyes glinting as his lips curved into a grin.

“I don’t know, maybe.” Stiles laughed. “I’m starting to think you’re part nogitsune.” 

“Everyone enjoys a little chaos, Stiles.” Peter replied, his smirk widening. “Nogitsune just happen to be creatures that can feed on it. It doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t have some fun with it.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing yet.” Stiles turned the radio on, grimacing when all he picked up was static. He grumbled in irritation, twisting the knob to try to find a radio station that would come in without any excess noise. 

“Try one-oh-three-point-one.” Peter suggested, watching Stiles and looking unreasonably entertained.

Stiles glanced up at Peter, then turned the knob until ‘103.1’ showed up on the tuner screen. “Smug bastard.” He muttered, shaking his head. 

Peter did indeed look smug as he sat back, folding an arm over his chest. “You say that like it’s an insult to me.”

“No, not really. At this point, it’s just an observation.” Stiles grinned. “I need a new radio.” He needed a new vehicle, but he would never say that out loud. 

“Is that a fact?” Peter asked, glancing sideways at Stiles. He fell silent, and then added casually, “I may know where you could potentially get one at very low cost.”

“Where? I need to get a job, so that’s going to have to happen.” Stiles frowned. “I don’t know where I can get hired and not work on Fridays. We’ll have to move pack night, probably.” 

“I didn’t say you needed to get a job, and I never even specified that it would be you that would need to pay.” Peter explained, lifting his eyes to the roof of the Jeep.

Stiles glanced at Peter, then away for a little while, driving along the road to the Preserve. “What do you want?” 

“Not a thing.” Peter replied easily, every part of his body relaxed.

“Why?” Stiles demanded. He waited for the light to turn green, wishing that the county hadn’t decided that Beacon Hills needed a stoplight this far away from downtown, for no actual reason.

“Because not all of my motives are specifically designed to extort something from you. You’re in need. I have money. And I’m bored.” Peter told him, sounding just as bored as he said he was.

Stiles eased off of the brake and bit his lip. “Okay.” He said finally, turning to park in the lot by a hiking trail. “Tomorrow, if we don’t have time today.” He shut the engine off and got out, pocketing his keys. It wasn’t until he was looking around that he realized he would need to remove his clothes before he tried to fully shift. 

Peter stepped out of the Jeep, folding his arms across his chest and watching Stiles expectantly. He raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “Well?”

“You say nothing about this.” Stiles warned, then yanked his shirt off over his head. “Nothing.” 

Peter laughed. “And if I don’t agree to that? Do you think your new boyfriend would look down on you for getting naked in front of his uncle? Ask him to tell you about full moon runs when our family was alive.”

“It’s just not something that... whatever.” Stiles sighed. He folded his shirt and put it on the front seat, then did the same with his jeans. He set his shoes on the floorboard, unfastening his watch and tucking it into his jeans pocket before he took off his socks and underwear and left them in the Jeep, as well. He shivered, and then scales covered his skin, making him feel a little more relieved and a little less naked. 

Peter watched with interest, and then surprise as the scales covered Stiles’ body. He straightened, intrigued. “Can you progress it a little further?”

“Like a secondary beta thing?” Stiles shook his head. “No, this is as far as I’ve gotten. What are you hoping for?” 

“Wings.” Peter admitted immediately. “The kanima alpha form - the one that Jackson was evolving toward after Gerard forced him to kill himself on the field - had wings. It almost looked like it could have been some base form of dragon, even. But you - you’re actually a dragon. I’d like to see if you can grow wings, if you can get that far. I’d like to see how long it might take you to achieve your alpha shift.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.” Stiles closed his eyes, thinking of what he would like to see himself become: a large dragon with wings. Nothing changed, and he opened his eyes and snorted, shaking his head. “Well, that didn’t work.” 

“Maybe you just…” Peter frowned to himself, rubbing the jut of his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Are you tense at all? Are you wishing to change, hoping to change, or believing that you will?”

“I’m standing, naked, in the woods with my boyfriend’s uncle. No, I’m totally relaxed.” Stiles scoffed. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had to. When I was helping Scott with something like this, it was about making sure that he didn’t shift. Control. Staying human.” 

“Then do the opposite of what you did for Scott.” Peter replied promptly. “You’ve got more control over what you are than he did when I first bit him. Granted, I was trying to mentally manipulate him into murdering murderers with me, which was bound to make it difficult. Either way, I highly doubt that when you shift, you’ll go into a murderous, bloodthirsty rampage and demand to have all of the virgins in town sacrificed to your appetite. Do the opposite of what you helped Scott do, and you might achieve what you want.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay.” He licked his lips, making a face when his tongue met leathery skin. He had made a point of telling Scott not to get angry, so he started thinking of everything that pissed him off. _Getting shoved into lockers, his Jeep being made fun of, the time when someone started shit about the fact that his mom wasn’t around._ He clenched his teeth, raking his fingers through his hair. _Scott ignoring his phone calls and texts. Derek shoving him against a wall and bouncing his head off of the steering wheel. His dad not listening. Erica ripping his Jeep apart to keep him from helping Scott keep Lydia safe. Never playing lacrosse. Lydia telling him that he was making mistakes. The principal’s office. Gerard hitting him repeatedly. His body, being used to commit one murder after another, and he couldn’t stop it._ He tilted his head back to scream, and somehow, it became an angry roar as he shifted, his wings snapping out to either side of him. 

Peter looked wholly astounded as he stepped back and stared at Stiles - or the creature Stiles had become. There was no other word for it - he was beautiful. His scales, gleaming an almost orange-gold glow when he was human, were now at once brighter and deeper, going from one shade to another all along Stiles’ belly. The inside of his wings mimicked the color, darker orange closer to the bulk of his body while the color lightened closer to the edges. The rest of Stiles’ body was covered in shimmering black scales, deep and dark and shining, and spikes trailed from the ends of his arms and legs and all along the top of his head until they flared at the back of his neck. Out of all of the changes that Stiles had undergone, however, the only thing that remained the same - familiar, though now reptilian - was the bright whiskey brown color of his eyes. Peter took another step back and whistled lowly. “Bravo, whelpling.”

Stiles inclined his head like he was nodding, then spread his wings and looked up at the sky. 

Peter wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew enough that if Stiles was looking to the skies, the snapback from the wind would knock him over. He wasn’t looking forward to looking like an ass, so he scrambled back as quickly as he could to a safe distance away, waiting to see what Stiles would do.

Stiles looked around for Peter, then leaped into the air. He stayed airborne for a few seconds, then fell to the forest floor. Embarrassed, he put a wing over his eyes. 

Peter let out a soft chuckle, walking toward Stiles. Without thinking, he reached out and swept a hand gently over Stiles’ snout, patting his nose lightly. “The first time I shifted, I tripped over my paws. Derek spent fifteen minutes chasing his tail, and Laura caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror. Couldn’t get her to look away until Talia got a t-bone under her nose.”

Stiles huffed a laugh, moving his wing and looking up at Peter. 

“Get up and try again.” Peter murmured, nodding. “Go on.”

Stiles got up, walking away to put space between himself and Peter. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he went from walking to running, then leaped into the air again. This time, he stayed up and managed to turn, flying back toward Peter before he hit the ground, sliding a few feet before he used the tips of his wings to stop himself. 

Peter was clapping loudly, nodding and looking pleased. “That’s it, that’s it.” He called. “Again! You keep doing this again and again until you get the hang of it, until you’re an expert. You take this, and you master it, Stiles.”


	8. The Girls

Stiles got into the elevator at Derek’s building, the next morning. He felt different and he couldn’t stop smiling. He glanced down at his keys, laughing softly to himself as he waited for the elevator to take him to Derek’s floor. 

Derek looked up when he heard the elevator’s clunking, turning expectantly toward it.

Stiles got off the elevator and knocked on Derek’s door, glancing at his watch. For all he knew, Derek was still asleep. It was pretty early, but Stiles was well-rested and had slept better than he had in years. 

Derek answered the moment he caught Stiles’ scent through the door, his lips twitching up. The door swung open, and he gazed at the other man, his eyes glinting and his head cocking to the side. “You smell… different.” He murmured, a surprised look appearing on his face. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled, leaning in to kiss Derek before he walked past him. “I managed a full shift last night. And I can fly. But that took some practice. I’m probably not going to be able to take someone from one end of the country to another, but I could probably get to Redding in fifteen minutes, max.” 

Derek’s eyes widened, and he let out a soft laugh. “Stiles, that’s incredible.” He blurted, walking after him and slinging an arm around Stiles’ shoulders before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“Yeah. Do you want to go out to breakfast?” Stiles leaned against Derek. 

Derek slid his other arm around Stiles, smiling at him. “Breakfast sounds good.” He agreed. “Greta’s? Or Denver’s?”

“Greta’s. Denver sucks, he won’t leave you alone until you tip him, and if it’s not what he thinks it should be, he tries to argue with you. Or maybe that’s just me, he does that to.” Stiles snorted. 

Derek’s lips twitched. “It might just be you. I think he’s got a bit of a grudge against your dad regarding parking tickets. So… you’re right, Greta’s is better. Besides, it’ll be good to see her and see that face she makes when she sees you.”

Stiles put his arms around Derek. “I didn’t know you paid attention to that.” 

Derek looked faintly embarrassed as he admitted, “I… tend to pay attention to a lot of stuff that involves you.” But he locked his arms around Stiles’ waist, just a little tighter, and ducked his head to press his nose gently under Stiles’ ear.

“I think I want more details.” Stiles teased. “But we can talk over breakfast.” 

Derek huffed a laugh. “Sounds good. Let’s go.” He nipped Stiles’ jaw lightly and then pulled away.

Stiles reached for Derek’s hand. He still felt like he was flying, even though he had stopped doing that nearly twelve hours earlier. 

Derek grinned softly and led Stiles to the elevator, then down to the main hall of the building before he began walking toward Greta’s.

“Full disclosure.” Stiles began, glancing at Derek. “Your uncle came with me to the Preserve. I was a little freaked out about that, but now I feel like it doesn’t matter. If I’m wrong, we’ll talk. Don’t shut down on me over it.” 

“I won’t.” Derek shook his head. He looked hesitant, and maybe a little hurt. “Though… I’m curious about… why you let him come with you? Granted, he’s Peter. You could say no until you were blue in the face and he’d still do what he wanted anyway.”

“I’m trying to convince him that he needs to be in this pack. Or any pack.” Stiles explained. “I can’t do that by arguing with him on everything. I care about you, so try to keep that in mind as I say this. You have a soft spot for me. So does Scott, but in a different way. If I got hurt, even a little, you’d both want me to stop. Peter doesn’t - I mean, he might _care_ if I get hurt, but only as a means to an end. If he ignored my pain, that would piss you off, and the little bit of respect you have for him would be gone. So if I did end up smashing my face into the ground, he would do what needed to be done, to take care of it. Scott would be in a panic and you might’ve gone blue screen of death on me. The way I phrased it was, I asked him if he wanted to watch me break my face. And that motivated him to come along.” He shrugged, smiling. “I didn’t want to be on my own and he knew I was planning something, so it just kind of worked out the way it did. I didn’t outright decide to bring him with me, it was a spontaneous decision.” 

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “I think I can understand that. He’s always been the type of man to get too much enjoyment out of watching other people hurt themselves, it doesn’t really surprise me that the thought of watching you faceplant into the dirt was what would catch his attention. And obviously having him along helped.” He glanced at Stiles. “You managed your shift.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. It turns out that anger works for me, too. Who knew?”

Derek huffed out a laugh. “Anger works for a lot of things.” He agreed, nodding again. “But it doesn’t always last. It’s… hard for me to remember what I used to use as an anchor before the fire. After, it was anger, for much longer than it should’ve been, but now… I’m not really sure. The shift comes so easily now, and control isn’t an issue, but… I don’t really know why.” He brushed an absent kiss against the top of Stiles’ head. “I don’t doubt that you’ll have an easier time narrowing down your anchor, though.”

Stiles grinned when they got to Greta’s. He sprinted to the door and into the building. “Greta!”

Greta looked up at the boy she thought of as a surrogate grandson. “Stiles, sit down. When’s the last time you ate something?”

“Last night.” Stiles hugged the older woman. “I’m capable of feeding myself.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” Greta shook her head, laughing. She turned her attention to Derek. “You both need a real breakfast.”

Derek smiled at her. “Well, we came to the best spot in town for it.” He told her, inclining his head. He wrapped his hand gently around Stiles’ upper arm and tugged him closer. “Come on, let’s grab the booth in the back.”

Stiles smiled as he followed Derek, sitting across from him. “What are you getting?”

“I was thinking a country fried steak and home fries.” Derek murmured. “How about you?”

“Pecan waffles.” Stiles grinned. “And blueberry syrup.” He reached for Derek’s hand, turning his coffee cup over. “And bacon.”

Derek grinned back, twining his fingers with Stiles’. “You won’t mind if I steal a few bites, would you?” He teased.

“I won’t, but Greta might shank you.” Stiles laughed. 

“Guess I’d better keep my fingers to myself, then.” Derek looked amused, turning his own coffee cup over.

“During breakfast, anyway.” Stiles winked. He hadn’t been surprised by Derek’s assessment of his scent being different. He felt more confident, more capable. Even though he still wanted to make sure he had Derek’s consent for any kind of physical display of affection, he wasn’t going to ask every single time. He trusted that Derek would tell him if he was being too forceful. 

Derek grinned and ducked his head, only looking up again when the waitress stopped by to deliver their drinks. 

Stiles’ smile widened. “Today, I’m going to take Jackson and Theo, and go talk to Kira’s mom. Whether or not Jackson and Theo are going to be in this pack, it’s about time for the Yukimura family to leave. I don’t want them here.” 

“And I think you’re right.” Derek agreed, nodding. “If Noshiko hadn’t summoned the nogitsune in the first place, you’d never have been possessed by him in the first place.” He looked down, drawing his brows together. “I’ve been thinking about what Theo said the other day. He existed for a thousand years, maybe longer. And during that time, he survived on chaos, but… we don’t necessarily know that he always caused the chaos. There’s plenty of it, everywhere in the world. It was only really when Noshiko summoned him for revenge, to kill the ones who had wronged her, that he sort of went out of control, and then she imprisoned him for nearly seventy years. It’s not really a wonder that his first act was to find a host to cause more chaos - he was probably starved nearly to death at that point, and I’m not saying I’m okay with what he did, especially since he did it to you, but… I understand why he did it. Animalistic instincts prevailed. It’s… what Peter did when he woke up. He summoned Laura. He killed her to heal.”

Stiles nodded. He licked his lips. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. I’m not saying that everything has to necessarily run in a cycle, but Scott’s not the only true alpha to ever exist. There was another one, about a hundred years ago. And maybe supernatural creatures aren’t the only ones drawn to this place, and maybe...” He shrugged. “Maybe every generation or every pack has certain types of people who need to fill a role. Not just an enforcer or an alpha, or even a banshee. Maybe my love of pranks and Scott’s refusal to murder anyone, and your need to harbor guilt, which you do have, don’t pretend otherwise... maybe all of that stuff is necessary to having a good pack. Or just a pack, in general. Even the alpha pack had similar traits. Deucalion murdered for power, Kali couldn’t bring herself to kill Julia Baccari, Aiden tried to be different for Lydia’s sake. If I’m right and we’re just, um, filling a void?” He made a face at the phrase, but continued, “Then if it wasn’t me being possessed, it would’ve been Peter or Ethan. Or Brett. Maybe Lori. She’s quiet and shy, nobody would suspect her.” 

Derek rubbed his free hand over his face. “Thank god it wasn’t Peter.” He mumbled. “But… And I hate saying this, but maybe it was good, in the end. That it was you. You might not think so, but you’re stronger than the rest. Can you imagine what could have happened to Scott, if the nogitsune had chosen him? If he had chosen Allison?” He paused a moment, and then grimaced. “I don’t think I’m wrong in saying that it would have ended badly for all of us. A nogitsune centuries old with the power of a true alpha at hand would’ve been destructive beyond anything we could imagine. And a nogitsune with the power of a martially trained girl, that had access to every single weapon and strain of wolfsbane and mountain ash that exists…” He shook his head. “They’re both headstrong. And… they’re both inaccessible in that way, sometimes. But we could still get to you. With all the strength the nogitsune possessed, you were still there. We could still reach you. I don’t think we’d have been able to get through to Scott and Allison that way.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Stiles agreed. “He couldn’t use Scott, anyway. It would have weakened him. Allison as a dragon would be some scary shit.” He sat back when their food was delivered, waiting until the waitress was gone before he spoke again. “I’m trying to figure out who else should come with me, Jackson and Theo. If I bring Peter or Allison, that’s an implied threat. It’s already enough that I’ll be bringing Theo. Jackson’s going to need to be there, for him. But Scott’s too passive and Kira could get to him too easily, emotionally. Erica’s too impulsive and she would attack at the slightest provocation. I’m too pissed off at Lydia to even think of asking her right now.” 

Derek tapped thoughtfully at the table. “Given the few people you have left, I’d say your best bet would be either Boyd or Isaac. Neither of them have any connection to the Yukimuras. Isaac’s loyalty is more toward the pack than anything else, and Boyd is steady and cool, calm and collected. Anything they might say wouldn’t affect him in the slightest, particularly if he were there with you as a representative of the pack.”

Stiles nodded. “I’ll bring both of them. They have the most reason to not back me, and that might actually prove useful.” 

Derek’s lips twitched. “There you go.” He reached for the fork and knife and cut into his steak, taking a bite with a hum.

Stiles sent a text to both pack members. ‘I need your help with something, this afternoon. Can you be ready to go around two o’clock?’

Boyd replied a few minutes later. ‘I have to work at the rink.’ 

‘I can be there. I don’t have anything going on. I don’t think? Let me double check and I’ll get back to you.’ Isaac replied just after that.

‘Just let me know.’ Stiles responded, then went back to eating his breakfast. When he finished, he sat back, resting a hand on his stomach as he looked at Derek. “What else do you want to do, today?” 

Derek watched him with a smile as he finished up his own meal. “I’m up for anything,” he murmured, scooping up the last few home fries and stuffing them in his mouth. “Around when do you need to be at Noshiko’s? We can figure out what we can do between now and then.”

“I’m dropping in on her.” Stiles smiled. “Around two, this afternoon. So I’m not busy until then.” 

Derek tilted his head, reaching across the table with his other hand, so that both of Stiles’ hands were in his hands. “Well, then. What do you say we visit the batting cages? Or go bowling?”

“Batting cages.” Stiles agreed quickly, smiling. “Bowling is okay, but not really my thing. At least, not more than going to the batting cages. Maybe we can do that some other time, though.” 

Derek nodded. “Let’s settle up and head out, then.” He laughed softly.

Stiles got up from his seat, going over to the register to pay for breakfast. 

Derek looked over the table, then pulled out several bills, placing them underneath his empty coffee cup in order to cover the tip, before making his way to Stiles’ side.

**

Hours later, Stiles parked outside Danny’s house and knocked on the front door. He was looking forward to convincing the Yukimuras to leave, whether or not the others came with him. Nothing was going to ruin his good mood. 

Jackson opened the door, blinking at Stiles in confusion. “Uh. Were… we supposed to meet up?”

“No, but I want to ask you two questions. Both you and Theo.” Stiles explained. “It’ll be quick.” 

Jackson eyed him for a moment longer, and then shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. Come in, I guess.” He stepped back, leaving enough room for Stiles to come in.

Stiles stepped into Danny’s house as Theo walked into the living room. 

Theo studied Stiles for a few seconds. “What did we miss?” 

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Stiles shook his head. “Do you want to be in my pack?” 

“Yes.” Theo replied without any hesitation. 

Jackson glanced at Theo in surprise, then turned to look at Stiles. Warily, he cleared his throat and then tilted his head, an uncomfortable expression on his face. “Uh… I… yes.”

Stiles smiled, nodding. “Then my next question is, do you want to come with me to tell Noshiko to leave town?” 

“Hell yes.” Theo blurted. 

“After what that bitch did to Theo?” Jackson snorted. “Damn right I do.”

Stiles’ smile widened. “Then come with me. I’m going over there now. We’ll have to stop to get Isaac, but that’s it, for this pack. For this.” 

Jackson nodded sharply. “Then I’ll go get dressed. Quickly, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to Theo’s cheek and walked out of the room.

“What did you do?” Theo asked, though he didn’t expect an answer. So far, Stiles had given him every indication that there was no trust between them. He didn’t blame the alpha for that. 

“I flew.” Stiles admitted, smiling. 

“You flew?” Theo repeated, raising his eyebrows. “Well. That’s… not what I was expecting you to say.”

Stiles laughed. “What did you think I was going to say?” He sat down on the couch to wait for Jackson. 

“I’m not sure.” Theo snorted, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. “I was you for a little while, and I still don’t know what I expect you to say sometimes.”

“I think that’s a good thing.” Stiles shrugged. “When we go over there, I don’t want you to start trouble, all right? We’re just telling them to go, that our pack has jurisdiction.” 

“Well, it’s not like you’re lying.” Theo pointed out. “You do have jurisdiction. What can I do if they decide to argue with you, though?”

“Be ready.” Stiles had expected a reaction like this from one or both of them. “Though I don’t want it to come to that. Just don’t do anything unless I tell you to.” 

Theo nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He murmured. “I can do that. I think.”

Jackson came back down the stairs, looking well dressed and refreshed. “Alright, let’s head out.”

Stiles got up from the couch, walking back out to the Jeep. He waited until the guys were in and had their seatbelts fastened before he drove to Scott’s house. “I’ll just get Isaac and come right back.” He told them, getting out of the Jeep and running up the steps to Scott’s front door. He knocked, then shook his head at himself and went in. “Isaac!” 

“Coming!” Isaac called from the second floor. He was jogging down the stairs a second later, lifting a hand at Stiles in greeting. “Yo. We ready?”

“Yeah, I already talked to Theo and Jackson, and they’re in the Jeep.” Stiles smiled. “I told Theo to behave himself unless I say otherwise. He’s accepted me as his alpha, so that should help.” 

“Huh. Didn’t think that was possible.” Isaac murmured, looking surprised. “Are you still, you know… gonna be careful around him?”

“Absolutely.” Stiles nodded. “Are you ready, or are you staying here, instead?” 

“I’m ready,” Isaac promised him, nodding. “Let’s get going.”

Back in the Jeep, Stiles glanced in the rearview mirror at Jackson and Theo before he drove to Kira’s house. There was a ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard. He laughed, but his laughter faded when Kira stormed outside and slashed the sign in half with her sword. 

“Brat.” Theo commented. “Can I smack her around a little?” 

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “We don’t know what’s going on, but we’re going to find out.” He got out of the Jeep, waiting for the betas. 

“I know what’s going on.” Jackson drawled, glancing at Isaac. “Her mom and dad got their shit together and realized they’d better get the fuck out of dodge, and she’s being a spoiled little shit, stomping her feet and demanding not to leave. So… brat. Like Theo said.”

“Yeah.” Stiles shook his head again. “If I did something like that, my dad would probably cuff me to his desk and leave me there until I apologized.” 

“I’d pay to see that.” Jackson commented, grinning. 

Isaac let out a low laugh, sniggering quietly. 

Stiles stopped walking and turned toward Isaac. “Really?” He said quietly. “This is funny to you?” 

Isaac froze in place, going pale before his cheeks flushed. He looked down, shaking his head and swallowing hard. “No. Not at all. Sorry, alpha.”

Stiles put his hands on Isaac’s shoulders. “We need to talk, later.” He said softly. “But for now, let’s get this done.” 

Isaac nodded, his eyes still in the ground. “Okay.” He mumbled. 

Jackson patted his hand on Isaac’s back, then wrapped his arm around Theo’s waist, glaring at the front door of the Yukimuras’ house. After a moment, he knocked only twice, but very loudly. 

Kira opened the door, giving Jackson and Theo a confused look before she turned to Isaac and Stiles. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to your parents.” Stiles smiled. “You can let me in, or I can make you move and come in.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” Noshiko murmured as she appeared in the hallway of the house. She studied Stiles for a moment, and then froze as her eyes settled on Theo. “Why have you brought that _thing_ here to my home?”

“Because that thing is my beta now.” Stiles’ smile widened. “Not that it should matter to you at all. You’re moving, aren’t you?” 

“No.” Kira shook her head. “We’re not.” 

“Except that you are, and that’s what I’m here about.” Stiles looked back at Noshiko. “I came here to discuss what it would take for you to leave, but you seem to have taken care of that for me.” 

Noshiko looked at her daughter in irritation. “Despite what my daughter seems to think, destroying a for-sale sign does not change the fact that the house is up for sale. Especially given that the house is already listed on more than five different realtor sites.”

“I want to stay.” Kira protested. 

“And how old are you?” Stiles shook his head. 

“I’m seventeen.” Kira folded her arms across her chest. 

“Unless you get emancipated, you’re stuck doing what your parents tell you. And that process can take some time. You would need to prove that you can provide for yourself, that you have cause to remove yourself from your home. I can tell you right now that no judge would grant your request.” Stiles stuck his hands in his pockets. “You should go pack your things.” 

Noshiko’s lips pursed, and she nodded at Stiles in approval. “Kira, go. This is not a discussion, and there is no negotiation. We are leaving Beacon Hills. This town has no need for an alpha, his pack, and two kitsune.”

Kira made a high-pitched whining noise and left the room. 

Stiles stood up straight and looked at Noshiko once he was certain that Kira was gone. “Because you’re leaving, this conversation is going to be much shorter than I anticipated. You’re fortunate that there’s nothing in place here, no way to have you punished for your crime.” 

Noshiko stiffened, staring at him. “My crimes are many. And all have been for the greater good.” She maintained. 

“You brought destruction to this town, about seventy years ago.” Stiles countered. “Regardless of your reasoning, and I’m not saying you weren’t justified for it, you saw fit to punish the being who only did what you asked. You imprisoned him for nearly a century, and all because he did you a favor. He’s in my pack now, under my protection, because he’s not simply a nogitsune anymore. I’m giving him the chance that you never tried.” 

Theo raised his hand halfway, looking from Stiles to Noshiko. “And I had to possess someone to regain my strength, and you knew it was possible, but you didn’t warn anyone. You were going to murder a teenager instead of facing your own consequences.” 

Noshiko lifted her chin into the air, her lips tightening. “Yes. I would have. In order to never make a mistake like that again, I would rather have sacrificed a child, because for all I knew, you had already destroyed him. For all I knew, the boy was an empty shell that you were possessing, and there would be no rescue because no one remained there to _be_ rescued.”

Jackson snorted in disbelief. “You’re a real piece of work, lady.” He glanced at Stiles. “What is it with these craptastic old supernatural fuckers deciding that we don’t exist anymore just because something happened to us, and that the better option is to kill us dead?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not happening again. Not while I’m in charge.” Stiles assured Jackson. 

Theo put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Kitsune or not.” Stiles murmured. “If you had killed me, you would have spent the rest of your life, short as it would be, running. Because my dad wouldn’t have stopped looking for you until you were in the ground or in prison. And Scott, that true alpha who never wants to hurt anyone, let alone kill them? He’d make an exception for you. You think about that before you go summoning anything else.” 

There was a long pause, but then Noshiko jerked her head, nodding in acknowledgement. She resumed her prideful stance, her eyes narrowed at the others. “This house remains mine for the time-being. I am leaving this town in your hands, Alpha… now if you would kindly leave my home?”

“All right.” Stiles agreed. “But I’m giving you until January first to get out of here. I think two weeks is plenty of time.” 

“Yes. Well. I doubt we’ll need the entire two weeks. But thank you.” Noshiko murmured. 

Stiles nodded, then motioned for the betas to leave the house. He waited until they were outside before he followed them to the Jeep. “Okay, so now what do you guys want to do? Am I just dropping you off?” 

Jackson glanced at Theo curiously, then shrugged. “I don’t think we’ve got any plans.” He said. 

“I don’t either.” Isaac murmured. 

“Nope, we’re not busy.” Theo agreed. 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at them. “Well, what do you want to do?” 

Jackson shrugged. “I’m good with anything. Whatever. I don’t care.”

Isaac blinked at him. “That sounds helpful.”

Stiles laughed. “We could see a movie, go bowling, terrorize the villagers... pick something.” 

Jackson smirked slowly and looked at his boyfriend. “You pick, babe.”

“You weren’t serious about terrorizing people, were you?” Theo looked hopeful. 

Stiles laughed again and shook his head. “No. Not unless there’s a way to do that without hurting anyone or getting ourselves arrested.” 

“Damn it.” Theo sighed. “Uh, bowling?” 

Isaac shrugged. “I’m good with that.”

“Yeah, I can show off.” Jackson added, nodding. 

Stiles sent out a text to everyone in the pack, then added Danny and Peter, inviting them to come to the bowling alley. He had a lot on his mind, but he needed to wait and see how he felt later, he knew. 

‘You do remember that I suck at bowling right?’ Scott texted back. ‘I mean I’ll still be there but… there’s going to be a lot of craptastic sucking on my part.’

‘I don’t care what you do in your spare time.’ Stiles hit ‘send’, then laughed to himself and handed his phone to Isaac. “Just read it.” 

Isaac took the phone, and then promptly choked when he read the message, and then started laughing. “He walked right into that.”

Theo gave Isaac a curious look, but decided not to ask. 

Stiles drove to the bowling alley, going in and reserving three lanes. He paid for bowling shoes and sat down to put them on. 

Lydia walked in a few minutes later, with Allison, Erica, Scott and Boyd. She eyed Theo and Stiles warily, putting on her bowling shoes and getting her bowling ball out of her bag. She looked at the lanes, taking the second one. She set her ball on the return tray, then walked over to Stiles. “Are we okay?” 

“I’m fine, how are you?” Stiles smiled. 

“I just don’t want you to think that I really blame you.” Lydia began, but Stiles held his hand up to stop her. 

“You do, though. You showed up, so that’s good, so let’s just not talk. Not right now. Later, yeah?” Stiles waved to Danny when the last teenager walked into the bowling alley. He watched the doors, eager to see Derek. 

Derek stepped through the door, looking around curiously as he searched for the rest of the pack. His eyes locked on Stiles, and he grinned at the younger man, moving toward him immediately. 

Stiles stood up, ignoring everyone and everything else as he put his arms around Derek and kissed him. 

Derek’ arms wound around Stiles tightly, lifting him up and holding him close as he kissed him back. 

Allison blinked as she watched, an astonished but gleeful grin appearing on her face. She let out a laugh and clapped. “Get it, Stiles!”

Stiles laughed against Derek’s mouth. 

Lydia looked up at them, then got up and took her turn to bowl, frowning to herself. 

Erica looked amused as she watched them kiss, a pleased expression on her face at Derek’s and Stiles’ happiness, and obvious fondness for each other. She glanced at Lydia sideways, waiting until the redhead was sitting down again to speak. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Lydia smiled tensely. “Why?” 

Erica kept her voice low, not looking at the other girl. “Might have something to do with how annoyed and pissed you look and sound right now.”

Lydia shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” She murmured. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Erica didn’t say anything for a moment, and then shrugged. “Alright. But if you wanna talk… I’m here.” She glanced at the other girl finally. “If you wanna take me up on it, I mean.”

“Now?” Lydia suggested. “In the bathroom, probably?” 

“Yeah.” Erica nodded, standing up. She whispered to Boyd that she was going to the restroom, then turned and glanced at Lydia. 

Lydia walked into the bathroom, turning to face Erica. “I was looking over my list.” She began. “Oh, wait. You don’t know about the list. We did love spells, a while back. It was me, Stiles, Isaac and Allison. Scott made one later, though. A list of traits we want in someone, and a few words, then scattering flower petals. That was the extent of it.” 

Erica leaned against the counter, studying Lydia. “Okay. So… you invoked a spell. What’s the problem?”

Lydia opened her purse and got the notebook out, reading her list to Erica. “I want someone who will challenge me intellectually. He’ll love St. Patrick’s Day. He’ll be taller than five-foot-eight, but shorter than six-foot-two. He’ll be in an art museum when fate puts us together, though he doesn’t have to be new to my life. He likes bowling. He’ll be compassionate. His favorite place in the world will be Boston. He won’t attend MIT.” She looked up at Erica as she dropped the notebook back into her purse. 

Erica frowned. “Okay.” She said again, drawing out the word. “Your future dude sounds pretty awesome. Are you… wait, are you thinking it’s Stiles?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Lydia mused. “The height fits, and the bowling thing. Being compassionate. But I don’t know what his list is like. If I could see it, I’d know if it was about me.” 

Erica grimaced. “So you need a peek at his list. Okay. I can… probably distract him if you wanna grab it and take a picture of it with your phone?” She suggested. “I mean, he’s plenty distracted by Derek right now, you could probably waltz naked down one of the bowling lanes with a giant pink elephant behind you and he wouldn’t notice.” She winced. “That sounded shittier than I meant.”

Lydia laughed. “But honest.” She nodded. “Okay, go distract him.” She got her phone out of her purse and turned her camera on, following Erica back to their lanes. 

Erica sauntered over to Stiles immediately, dropping herself into his lap with a grin. “Hey, handsome.” She teased. “I feel like I should’ve known you’d go for a looker like Derek. Wanna tell me how _that_ happened? Did it happen before or after you brought us back?”

Stiles laughed. “It was after.” He admitted. “I liked him before, I just didn’t think he would ever like me, and I don’t like being rejected. So asking wasn’t something I wanted to do.” 

Lydia slipped her bowling shoes off and went out to the Jeep, taking a picture of Stiles’ list before she came back and put the shoes back on. She looked down at the list, reading over it carefully. Nothing there sounded like her. She sighed, looking up and trying to get Erica’s attention. 

“... for what it’s worth, though, the two of you are cute as hell together,” Erica was telling Stiles, her eyes flicking up and over his shoulder just in time to catch Lydia. She glanced back at Stiles and smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad you’re happy, cutie.” She added, standing up. 

“Thanks.” Stiles grinned. 

Lydia waited for Erica to catch up to her, at their lane. “It’s not me. I mean, he might be mine, but I'm not his, and that would be horrible, if that became reality. The spell isn’t supposed to work that way, though.”

“It’s supposed to help you find love, right?” Erica asked. “True love, like… the only love you’re ever going to have ever again until the end of your days, or something else? Like, still real, and still love, but a stepping stone or something?” She studied Lydia. “So what does his list say, anyway?”

“True love, yeah. End-of-days kind of love.” Lydia smiled softly. She looked down at the picture of Stiles’ list, reading it to Erica. “He wants ‘someone who won’t give up on me. Someone who eats ice cream in winter, outside. Favorite place is a library. This person will want me from first sight, intensely. Loves the forest. He or she will be reluctant to leave me, no matter what. Favorite shape will be a heart, but the real thing, not the Valentine’s Day one.’ I know it’s not me, because none of these describe me. Do you think it’s Derek? Do you think it was that easy?” 

Erica looked at Lydia sympathetically. “I don’t know, Lydia… a lot of those things really describe Derek.” She admitted. “And he is actually a weirdo that eats ice cream in the winter. I don’t know about the heart thing, or the library thing, but the rest of it, the ‘wanting Stiles from first sight’ bit especially, it explains a hell of a lot about how he used to act with Stiles. And the forest? Forget about it. If he could do a true love spell, it’d point in two directions - and one of those would lead right into the heart of the forest.”

“What about the other direction?” Lydia asked, tilting her head as she twisted the ends of her hair around her finger. 

“Well… if Stiles’ spell is on point, and he and Derek really do belong together, I’d say Stiles would be the other direction. And even if it isn’t Stiles, it’s whoever is meant for Derek, and whoever he’s meant for, too.” Erica leaned forward, smiling faintly and looking a little sad. “We make jokes about him and his emotional constipation, you know, but the truth is, he’s a marshmallow. He’s soft and sweet and he cares so much, but he’s just been constantly screwed over so often that he’s scared of trying to give a damn anymore. Well,” she amended, and glanced over her shoulder toward Derek, where he had one large arm solidly wrapped around Stiles’ shoulders, an astoundingly bright smile on his face. “At least until this. And… even if it turns out that this isn’t their true love, Derek could probably do a lot worse than Stiles for a genuine relationship that isn’t meant to use him, and fuck over the people he loves, you know? He cares about Stiles a lot. He always has - god, he almost tore me apart when he found out I’d ripped out a piece of the Jeep and hit Stiles in the head with it.” 

Lydia’s gaze went to Stiles and Derek, and she wondered if there was a spell that would enable her to see connections between people. She thought of red strings and Stiles’ method of categorizing things, and she shook her head at herself. Being wistful wouldn’t help her. “I despise not knowing something. Not when there’s a way for me to find out.” 

Erica huffed out a laugh, kicking her feet a little. “Well, you guys created a fucking spell based on a damn movie to find your true loves. You could probably make your own spell to figure out what you want to know.”

Lydia laughed. “Yeah. Do you want to help me, or is that something you want left out of?” 

Erica thought about it carefully. “I’m willing to help you.” She said eventually. “I mean, I don’t know what I can do, but I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Lydia nodded. “Stay at my house tonight, then. We’ll figure it out.” 

Erica looked surprised, but nodded. “Okay.” She said softly. “Yeah, sure.” She hesitated a moment later. “Are you… I mean, are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Allison’s help?”

“I can’t have both of you helping me?” Lydia asked quietly. 

Erica fidgeted, and then smiled tentatively. “You can.” She said softly. She hesitated, and then reached out carefully, snagging Lydia’s hand and squeezing gently.

Lydia smiled back at Erica. “I know you two had trouble getting along, but I want you to at least try. Allison did help bring you back, you know?” 

“I know.” Erica said carefully. “It’s… just hard to remember that when the last time I saw her…” Erica shrugged and swallowed. “She was, you know. Trying to kill me.”

“And you were going to kill me.” Lydia pointed out. “But I’m still talking to you. We’ll go shopping tomorrow and talk about how much the guys annoy us. It’ll be great.” 

Erica’s lips twitched. “They are pretty annoying. That could last us hours, honestly.”

**

Lydia sat on her bed, surrounded by books. She looked up at Erica and Allison. “If this is done right, I can find a connection between any two people who are meant to be together. I just need a few blue candles, clear quartz and some peppermint oil.” 

“I think I’ve got a bottle of peppermint oil at home for my diffuser.” Allison murmured, straightening a little. “I’m not really sure where to get the clear quartz, but are there any specifics on the candles? Like… they don’t need to be blessed by a priestess and made from the wax of mystical honeybees at midnight during a super blood moon or something?”

Erica snorted, and then peered over Lydia’s shoulder at the books just in case, frowning. “Uh. Nope. Regular candles.”

“Clear quartz is available everywhere.” Lydia mused. “Along with the candles. I want to do this tonight.” 

“Alright.” Erica nodded thoughtfully. “So we’ll split up. I’ll get the candles, Allison can get the oil, you go get the quartz, and we’ll meet back here in - what? Twenty minutes? Half an hour?”

“Twenty minutes.” Lydia laughed. “We’ll drop Ally off, go to the store and split up, and pick her up when we’re done.” 

“Sounds good to me,“ Allison said, grinning.

It didn’t take long, after they dropped Allison off at her house, for Lydia to get to the store. She eyed the doors instead of getting out of her car, wondering if she was making a mistake by buying candles and quartz crystals from a craft store instead of going to a store that specialized in what she really wanted the items for. 

Erica frowned at her. “What’s wrong?” She asked. 

“Have you ever watched Friends?” Lydia looked a little embarrassed as she turned to look at Erica. 

Erica's brows drew together in confusion but she nodded slowly. “Yeah? I mean, of course I have. I think everybody has at least once, haven’t they? Even if they haven’t liked it?“

“Of course nobody _likes_ it.” Lydia laughed. “But there’s an episode where Phoebe insists that she can help Rachel and Monica with their relationship problems by doing a spell, and she says they need sage branches and wine. Monica says that she could only find oregano and Fresca.” She sighed. “What if buying things here is our ‘oregano and Fresca’?” 

Erica thought silently. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah…“ She said slowly. “Yeah, you might be right. Well, let’s make sure that we do this right.” She looked up at Lydia. “Let’s go find the right place.“

Lydia nodded back at Erica. She called Allison. “We’re going to drive to Redding, and if they don’t have anything we need, we’re going to have to drive to San Francisco. Do you want us to pick you up before we do that?” 

“Yes, please,” Allison requested. “I want to see what these stores carry, especially if we’re going to be doing our own spells in the future. I’d like to see if there are supplies there that we could stock up on.”

“Bring your credit card.” Lydia advised. “We’re on our way.” She hung up, glancing at Erica. “You don’t mind us being out all night, do you?” She teased. 

“Me?” Erica drawled, grinning. “Not at all.”

Lydia laughed. She drove toward Allison’s. “Alternatively, we could just go raid Stiles’ room for things.” She mused. “I have a feeling he’s got a stockpile. Of quartz, at least.” 

“Yeah, but then we’d have to answer his questions about why we’re raiding his shit.” Erica pointed out. “And I don’t feel like it.”

“Fair point.” Lydia agreed. “He’d probably immolate us, anyway.” She considered their options as she parked in front of Allison’s building. “It’s about twelve hours to drive to Seattle.” She remarked. “We would get there before any stores opened. Then it’s just a matter of driving back and getting home before my mom wakes up and really wonders where I am.” 

Erica grinned. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got to worry about getting to school on time,  
right? Midnight road trip to Seattle sound pretty awesome to me.” She looked up as Allison jogged out of the building, a bag swung over her shoulder.

Allison jumped into the back of the car, closing the door behind her and grinning at the other two. “Ready!”

“Good.” Lydia smiled. She pulled away from the curb. “We’re going to Seattle.” She glanced at Allison in the rearview mirror, waiting for her best friend’s reaction. 

Allison’s eyes lit up. “Oh!” She blurted. “That sounds awesome! Do you know what shops we need to visit there?”

“No, not yet.” Lydia grinned. “I’m trying something different today. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” 

“Sounds great.” Allison laughed.

Erica rubbed her hands together, looking excited. “This is gonna be a blast.”


	9. The Reveal

The only shop that Lydia thought looked promising didn’t open until noon, and she carried her spell supplies out to the car, handing her keys to Allison. “I’m going to do the spell while you drive.” She explained. “And then when you get tired, it’s Erica’s turn again. I think that by the time we get back to Beacon Hills, I’ll definitely know.” 

Allison accepted the keys, nodding. “Don’t wear yourself out, though.” She murmured. “If this spell exhausts you, take a break, take a nap or something.”

“I will.” Lydia promised. She got into the back seat of her car, getting out three blue candles and some quartz stones. She poured a few drops of peppermint oil into her hands, coating the candles before she lit them. She worked carefully as the car moved, not wanting to burn herself or spill hot wax all over the seat. Holding all three small taper candles in one hand was a little unnerving, but she stayed focused as she cast the spell that would enable her to see things clearly. 

Allison drove as slowly as she could, not wanting to mess the spell up for Lydia. She frowned a little. “Maybe Erica should’ve gotten in the back with you to help you out?”

“No, I’m okay.” Lydia murmured, distracted. “Shh.” She blinked, realizing a few seconds too late that she had just shushed her best friend. “Fuck. Sorry.” 

Allison snorted out a laugh. “It’s alright.” She murmured. “Keep doing what you need to do, and I’ll shut the hell up until you’re done.”

It was another ten minutes before Lydia blew the candles out and rolled her window down, making sure the wax was cooled by the breeze before she put them back into the bag. She started peeling melted wax off of her hand, since she hadn’t been able to completely avoid drips, and looked up at Allison. “I’m done.” 

Allison looked at her in the rear view mirror. “How do you feel?” She asked. “Can you… see anything?”

Lydia nodded, her lips pressed together. “I don’t know where yours leads, but there’s a long coil of red string that’s decreasing slowly, as you drive.” 

Allison looked startled, her gaze returning to the rearview so that she could see Lydia. “What… You mean…” Her voice grew smaller. “Like… like the closer to home we go, the closer I am to…”

“Yes.” Lydia looked down at her lap, the coil of string she saw there also decreasing. “Maybe it’s not distance, maybe it’s time. It’s going so slowly, but I can still see it moving.” 

Allison exhaled. “Or both?”

Erica looked intrigued, perking up from the front passenger seat. “Do you see mine? Is mine heading toward Beacon Hills?”

Lydia smiled at Erica. “Yes. It looks like they’re all going the same direction, but it’s still too early to tell. Too much slack in the line, too - well, yours is a lot shorter.” She told Erica. “Mine is longer than Allison’s.” 

Erica frowned. “So… it could be awhile before you figure out who your person is.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lydia sighed. “But this is what I asked for, so this is what I get.” 

Erica glanced at Allison briefly, and then reached back and grabbed Lydia’s hand gently, squeezing. “Then… your spell must really think that this person is worth the wait for you.”

“I just wish I hadn’t done it.” Lydia blurted. “I limited myself to a person with a set of characteristics that aren’t descriptive enough. Suppose this person I want in my life, this person who loves Boston and St. Patrick’s Day, is a sadist. Or a murderer. I’ve derailed myself with a few simple words and I don’t know how I feel about that, right now.” 

“You feel apprehensive.” Allison murmured. “You embrace the fact that you might have written yourself into a corner and you think about what you’re going to do to help yourself out of it. You’re Lydia Martin - you have never been cowed by anything, and I don’t think that you’ll start now. Besides… I don’t think any good being in the universe would ever give you a true love that’s a murderer or a sadist. You’re much too important and much too brilliant to be given that.” 

Erica was nodding slowly. “But - hey. Even if the universe _is_ enough of a dick to do that to you, we know you can make it work. You stand toe-to-toe with Peter Hale on a regular basis, and you make him respect you. That asshole doesn’t respect anyone.” She furrowed her brows. “Except maybe Stiles, but still.”

Lydia laughed softly. She took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly and nodded. “Okay.” She murmured. “In that case, I’m going to do something I wasn’t so sure about.” She dragged her teeth across her lower lip, an aborted effort to bite it, the way she did as a preteen. “I’ve been taking classes that give me college credit. I started doing that as a freshman. As of right now, I could graduate at the end of this school year and enroll at MIT as a sophomore. If I stayed another year here, I could start as a junior. But I think I should just go to Boston and see what happens. I’ve never been much for thinking about romance, it’s always been secondary. But I’ve made it a priority and I do want to see it through.” 

Allison glanced at Erica, and then back at Lydia in the rearview. “Then… that’s what you should do.” She agreed. “If that’s the path you’ve put in front of yourself, then you absolutely should follow it. You owe it to yourself to do that.”

“Then when we go back to school next month, I’ll fill out forms for graduation.” Lydia murmured. Her vision blurred, but she wasn’t crying. She just felt tired. Relaxed. “I’m going to sleep.” She yawned, closing her eyes. “Wake me up when it’s my turn to drive, or when we stop to eat.” 

“Got it.” Erica murmured, nodding. “Get some rest.”

**

Stiles finished packing for the trip he was taking with Scott and Derek. He knew that leaving the pack, even for a week, was a bit more than he would have preferred to do, but he had been putting Scott first for so many years, it felt like second nature. He smiled to himself as he wondered if he would be able to make that flight in his alpha form, but he knew better than to risk it. He had been looking up the speed for the fastest bird in flight, and it was about two hundred miles an hour. With practice, Stiles thought he could go much faster than that.

Derek poked his head in to look at Stiles. “Scott’s being Scott.” He tattled blatantly. “And frankly, it’s irritating. Please make him stop.”

Stiles laughed. He walked over to Derek, putting an arm around him and kissing him. “I’ll take care of it.” He murmured, grinning. “Why don’t you grab me a few more shirts and put them in the suitcase and zip it for me, and I’ll deal with him?” He suggested. 

Derek grinned, slipping his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mm. I can do that. Just make him stop complaining and freaking out. I can’t tell if he’s scared of the plane, or scared of meeting someone. He’s all over the place.” He tilted his head and caught Stiles’ lips against his once more, humming. “You’re the only one who can make him breathe.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. He pulled away reluctantly, a question on his mind, but he didn’t want to ask it. It felt like it was definitely too soon. He glanced away, then took a step back. “I’ll go take care of whatever’s bothering him, and then we can go.” He went down the stairs, into the living room, and walked around the couch to stand behind Scott. Instead of saying anything, he brought his hand up and smacked his best friend in the back of the head. “Feel better?” 

“Yes.” Scott blurted, and then whined. “Also, ow. But.. thanks.” He took a deep breath. “I think I was kinda close to a panic attack, honestly.”

“I know.” Stiles climbed over the back of the couch to sit beside Scott. “Lydia texted me and says she can see soul bonds or whatever they are, some red string thing. Not like mine, not an unsolved clue thing. I guess it’s a Japanese concept? But that makes me wonder how she ended up with it being that way, for her. I guess it doesn’t matter. Maybe it just manifested itself in a way she could understand.” 

“Maybe that’s what she had in mind?” Scott nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. But I mean… neon arrows on the ground would’ve been easier, maybe?”

Stiles laughed. “I think that’s what Allison would see. Not Lydia. We had a talk, a while back. It was about the color of yarn I use and why, and she ended up getting kind of tangled in all of the red.” He smiled as he remembered it. “I think that’s why it ended up the way it did, for her. Something tangible.” 

“That makes sense, too.” Scott murmured, nodding. He looked over at Stiles. “So… speaking of something tangible. You and Derek have been… uh, pretty hands on lately. How are things going with you two?”

“Incredibly better than I even thought possible.” Stiles admitted. “I probably could’ve asked him out sooner, but I was convinced that there was no way he would say yes. I was just telling Erica this the other day. But yeah. I feel like it’s going really well. I think me being a dragon has a lot to do with that, maybe. I mean, not that that’s why he’s into me, just that I’m more confident this way, and I think that helps a lot.” 

“He looks like he really digs you.” Scott smiled crookedly. 

“I did pay attention to that.” Stiles grinned back. “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if I hadn’t noticed that he’s been different.” 

“He has.” Scott agreed softly, nodding. “It took awhile for me to notice, but… he really has been different. I think it’s probably your influence. He’s been different, I think, since…” he lifted his hand, rubbing it over the back of his neck awkwardly. “Since the thing with Gerard.”

“Yeah, well, you know. So have I.” Stiles shrugged. “Gerard is a piece of shit. I can’t be more blunt about it than that.” 

“Yeah. Well… he’s a piece of shit that’s puking up black goo and dying, so…” Scott shrugged. 

“We should probably just kill him.” Stiles muttered. “This is something I know you don’t want to talk about, so I won’t discuss it with you.” 

Scott fidgeted uncomfortably. “Yeah, that’s… well, I mean, you’re the alpha now, so, like… whatever you say goes. So… you know, if you say you wanna go ahead and do… that, then… I mean, I’ll have my opinions. But you’ll get the final say.”

“Do you think that’s why I did this?” Stiles asked quietly, studying Scott’s expression. “Because it’s not. It’s not even close. I mean, sure, you wouldn’t make the tough choices. But it’s not like I took over to turn us into a bunch of assassins.” 

“No. No, Stiles.” Scott said softly. “I know that’s not why you did this. I know exactly why you did it, and you were right to. You’re right. I can’t make the tough choices, and… the choices that I did make, I never discussed with anyone.”

“Yeah. But I’m not looking to force people to do things that they don’t want to do.” Stiles protested. 

“But if…” Scott trailed off. “If it’s the right thing to do? Like… like the stuff I did, that I thought was right? The stuff you do is going to be the right thing to do, in a different way. Right? Because you’re discussing it, and because you’re giving your packmates the choice to back out of it, if it’s something they don’t want to do.”

Stiles tilted his head, giving it some consideration. “If I had to make a decision that meant no arguments from the rest of the pack, I’d do it.” He conceded. “But I’d still make it clear to them what we were doing, and why.” 

Scott nodded. “Right.” He murmured. “That’s fair.”

“You seem pretty introspective all of a sudden.” Stiles turned to sit sideways on the couch, facing Scott fully. “You’re not allowed to back out of this trip.” 

Scott let out a soft laugh. “I’m not. I want this. I want…” he swallowed. “I want my spell to be complete, I want to find out who’s actually… you know. Out there. For me.”

“Well, I’m going to tell everyone to come say goodbye to us, and then we’ll go.” Stiles grabbed his phone from his pocket, sending a text to the pack, as well as Peter and Danny. ‘We’re leaving in an hour to go to the airport. Currently at my house. Come over before we go?’

‘If I must.’ Peter replied several minutes later. 

Stiles’ lips quirked and he shook his head, then replied. ‘I’m not your alpha and you’re not required to do anything you don’t want to do. You wouldn’t listen to me if I did make it a demand, anyway. Show up or don’t, wtf do I care?’

‘Yeah, yeah. We’ll see. If I’m not suddenly finding myself busy, I may drop by.’ Peter answered. ‘But please continue to pout and put up a front, whelpling. It’s adorable.’

Stiles rolled his eyes, opening his camera app and taking a picture of himself flipping the camera off. He sent it to the older man, snorting. “Peter is such a tool.” He muttered, looking up at Scott. “He keeps acting like he doesn’t need a pack and doesn’t care, but it’s so obvious that he’s full of crap.” 

Scott let out a laugh. “Well, I mean… he’s kind of a grump. A jerky one. An ass. He’s an ass.” He laughed again. “Maybe he might come around at some point, but I don’t know, man. I don’t think pushing him is gonna do it. He’ll just get more… like Peter.”

“He’s not that bad.” Stiles shrugged. “He’s been helpful when I need him to be. And he doesn’t actually ask for anything in return, like I expected him to. He got me a new radio, for the Jeep.” 

“Wait, what?” Scott blinked. “Really? When did he do that?”

“The other day, when I told everyone to get out of the loft, I talked to Derek for a few minutes. After that, I went down to the Jeep and Peter was waiting for me, because he knew somehow that I had a few plans that I was keeping to myself. When I did my full alpha shift, he was there.” Stiles started to fidget with his phone, but he set it aside. 

A few texts came through with soft dings to Stiles’ phone, and Scott stared at it for a moment as he thought over Stiles’ words. “So he just… wow. I never really thought he was capable of doing something… nice.”

“I didn’t, either.” Stiles admitted. “I asked him what he wanted in return and he said he didn’t want anything.” 

“And… you’re not suspicious? Like, at all?” Scott asked hesitantly. 

“Actually, I’m not.” Stiles shook his head. Too curious to let his phone sit with unread messages much longer, he picked it up and looked at what he had missed. 

‘We’ll be there soon!’ Allison had texted. ‘We’re on our way right now.’

Jackson had sent, ‘Theo and I are bringing Danny with us. Still feel like we should’ve just waited until Theo and I had to go back for you to take your trip but yeah, fine. We’ll see you in a bit.’

The last text message was from Peter. ‘Now, now, whelpling. What would my dear nephew say if he knew you were propositioning his uncle in such a vulgar way? I’m curious enough to actually show up and bid you farewell, just to find out.’’

Stiles didn’t reply to Allison, but started typing a response to Jackson. ‘By the time you two would be ready to head back, we’re going to be in the second half of junior year. You could come with us now, though.’ He stared at Peter’s message, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth as he tried to figure out how to respond. Ignoring Peter would be a response in itself. ‘I think Derek can assess the situation after reading it for himself.’ He watched the message get delivered, then looked up at Scott. “Maybe a little suspicious.” He amended. 

Scott raised his eyebrows, then frowned. “What did he say to you?”

“He said I was propositioning him.” Stiles muttered. “And that he’s going to tell Derek. Like Derek can’t read my texts?” He leaned back, looking toward the stairs. “Hey, Derek!?” 

“I’m here.” Derek called, poking his head around the stairwell and looking up at Stiles. “What’s going on?”

“Peter thinks I’m trying to get him to have sex with me because I sent him a picture of me flipping him off.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “He’s talking like he’s going to tell you, like he’s going to try to hurt you.” 

Derek sighed “Peter’s attempts at anything usually end in an attempt to hurt me or screw me over. Also, Peter thinks if you blink at him the wrong way, you’re attempting to have sex with him.” He smiled crookedly at Stiles. “He’s a threat, and he’ll always be a threat, it’s just a matter of whether he’s a threat to us, or to someone else. I’d say ignore him, but… he doesn’t like being ignored.”

Stiles nodded. “I just didn’t want to keep this from you and have him try to turn it into something that it isn’t. Also, uh, Jackson and Theo are probably coming with us.” 

“I…” Derek blinked. “Actually, that makes sense for them to come with us.” He raised his eyebrows at Stiles. “I trust you infinitely more than I trust Peter, Stiles. He’s my family by blood, but… I chose you. I still choose you.”

Stiles smiled slowly, getting up from the couch and going up the stairs. He kissed Derek. “I haven’t really said it, and it’s going to sound really sappy, but I’m so glad you chose me.” 

Derek kissed him back softly, grinning against Stiles’ mouth. “I think you’ll find that I actually really like sappy.” He tugged Stiles closer, rubbing a hand over his back. “I’m glad I chose you, too.”

Stiles rested his cheek on Derek’s shoulder, putting his arms around his boyfriend and closing his eyes. He wouldn't say it out loud, but sometimes he felt like it was almost too good to be true, that Derek could want him this much. He thought about the traits in the spell he had cast, and how he didn’t think he had done anything more than help the universe figure out who he should be with. His moment of contentment was ruined by a knock on the door. He made an irritated noise. “Scotty, can you get the door, please?” 

Scott snickered. “Yeah, I’ve got it. Keep canoodling.”

Stiles laughed. “I’m going to.” 

Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck, laughing quietly. “I plan to, too.” 

Scott rolled his eyes, laughing. “God, you’re gross. This is my payback for Allison, isn’t it?” He called to Stiles as he opened the door. 

“Yes, Scott.” Stiles said dryly. “I am only behaving like an octopus with my boyfriend because you got on my nerves eleven months ago by kissing your girlfriend every time you could.” 

“I knew it.” Scott grinned. He turned toward the door and smiled at the girls waiting behind it. “Hey! Come on in.” He beamed at Lydia, then turned the same grin on Allison and Erica. 

Lydia laughed as she walked in, past Scott. “I’m guessing you’re really excited to meet your true love.” 

“Also, there’s other people in the building now. Other people get to commiserate with me about Stiles and Derek’s sappiness.”

Allison snorted, stepping inside and shaking her head. “You’re a dork. You know full well that we were ten times worse.”

Scott fidgeted as Erica stepped behind him, snickering. “Well… I mean, I didn’t think we were that bad?”

“You made Stiles act as a go-between to deliver messages from one of you to the other.” Lydia reminded Scott. “He had to say all sorts of things to both of you, in the hallways. A lot of people thought that the three of you had something going.” 

Scott flushed red. “Oh. Right, okay, yeah.” He looked at Stiles apologetically. “I’m really sorry about that, dude.”

Stiles shrugged at him. “It’s not a big deal.” He was quiet, sighing softly. “That’s probably why Heather invited me to her party, actually.” 

“Because she thought you were involved with me and Scott?” Allison asked in confusion, stepping close to greet Stiles with a squeeze to the arm. She looked up at Derek, giving him a smile.

“Sounds like you earned a rep, Stiles.” Erica teased. 

Stiles laughed. “Let them think what they want, I’d rather be labeled slutty than having everyone know about werewolves.” 

Derek brushed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. “Speaking as a werewolf, thank you for that.” He murmured, his lips twitching. “But I’d also rather they don’t think you’re slutty. Or if they did, that you were just slutty for one person and not multiple.”

“So, the truth, then?” Stiles grinned. 

Lydia turned toward them. Her gaze fell on the red ropes, her breath catching in her throat. Stiles’ line led out the door, and Derek’s went in the other direction. She pressed her lips together, thinking quickly. Saying something would only cause both of them pain, and she didn’t want to see them hurt. 

Derek snorted, tugging Stiles closer and biting playfully at his earlobe. “Sure, yes, the truth.” Wrapping his arm back around Stiles’ waist, he tugged his boyfriend off into the living room. “Come on, you. I can hear everyone else coming down the block.”

Lydia sent a text to Allison and Erica. ‘It’s not Derek and Stiles.’ She looked up at them as their phones made noises to alert them to her message. 

Alison looked down as her phone went off, and she peered at Lydia’s message, looking startled. She straightened a little, and then looked at her best friend, her mouth open in shock. 

Erica’s expression, too, was confounded. She stared at the message, and then stared after Stiles and Derek, an expression a little like disappointment crossing her face. She texted Lydia back. ‘Well… I’m not gonna be the one to tell them.’ She shrugged. ‘What do we do?’

‘I think we say nothing.’ Lydia suggested. ‘They’re happy and they deserve to be. If their relationship sours or something, then maybe we’ll talk and reconsider. But I don’t think that will happen.’

‘Then… we’ll just keep a close eye on them, just in case.’ Allison texted. ‘As long as they’re happy, we’ve got no reason to worry.’

Stiles opened the door for the other pack members, stepping back to let them in. “Thanks for coming over.” He nodded to them, smiling. 

Isaac waved at Stiles, smiling faintly, before stepping inside and letting Jackson past him. 

Jackson saluted at Stiles, looking amused. “No problem. We kinda had to be here, right?”

‘That’s true.” Stiles laughed. “So, you’re coming with us, right?” 

Theo held his suitcase up, showing Stiles. “Yeah, even though I’m a little annoyed that you’re making us go home early.” 

“He’s not making us. Technically, I’m making us.” Jackson pointed out. “We could stay, if you wanted.”

Theo glanced at Jackson. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “No, we should go. I want to make sure I get the classes I want, and start looking for a place out here, for when we come back. I mean, if you want to? Since it’s your money that’s going to pay for it.” 

Jackson grinned, nipping a little at Theo’s shoulder. “I want to.” He assured his boyfriend. 

Stiles lifted a hand, feeling a need to add his two cents, even though he didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring Jackson or Theo. They both had reason to not want to listen to him, alpha or not. “Depending on what your plans are,” he began, “you might want to look anywhere in this country. I’d like it if you had a house close by, but if you’re looking to transfer to a college out here? I’m assuming the Ivy League is where you’d start. Lydia’s going to MIT. Maybe you would both want to go to Harvard? That would make her life a little easier. If you care.” 

Lydia turned, listening. Her gaze went to Jackson, and she wondered - but the last thing in the world she wanted was to become a nogitsune’s enemy. “I’m graduating after this semester.” She cleared her throat. “It was a decision that I chose not to make, but I would rather just get my degree and come back, if coming back is something we’re doing.” 

Derek gazed at her thoughtfully. “Well… then, good for you.” He murmured. “It’s good that you’re doing something for yourself. And… we hope you do come back here.” He paused and glanced at Stiles uncertainly. “But if you don’t… uh, we can visit?”

Stiles nodded in agreement. “We’d like to visit.” He added. 

“You’re more than welcome to.” Lydia smiled at them, then looked over at Jackson again. “Do you think you could handle sharing a house with me?” 

Jackson glanced at Lydia, then at Theo, raising a curious eyebrow. “I’m fine with it, but what do you think?”

Theo looked at Lydia, recalling the way she had reacted to him dragging her along to the tunnels. “I think we owe it to each other to try to get along and find common ground.” 

Jackson studied Lydia and Theo thoughtfully, and then tossed a glance over his shoulder at Stiles. “Finding common ground is a good plan.” He agreed after a second, nodding. 

Stiles grinned. “Well, Lydia will probably find a house before we even get to London.” He teased, hugging her. “You know I’m putting you and Allison in charge while I’m gone.” He told her. 

“It was implied.” Lydia murmured. 

Allison laughed quietly. “I hope we do you justice while you guys are gone.” She murmured. 

“If you run into any serious problems, you call me.” Stiles told them. “Because if I can’t get a flight back here right away, I will fucking fly myself back. Let the world deal with dragons being real, see if I give a damn.” 

“That seems like a brilliant idea, I’m sure that would go over _very_ well with the rest of the supernatural community.” Peter commented from behind Stiles, raising an eyebrow. 

Derek’s face went immediately from content to annoyed, and his eyes rolled up. “Fucking hate when he does that.” He muttered under his breath. 

Stiles turned to face Peter, smirking at him. “What the fuck do you even care?” He shook his head. “I’m just one more alpha in your way, anyway. I know you can’t stand anyone having more power than you.” 

“That… is true, and yet, I’d still like for some of our secrets to remain a secret. An enormous black and orange dragon breaking the sound barrier across the Atlantic isn’t exactly what would keep that secret for the rest of us.” Peter lifted his chin, staring at Stiles. “I’m not even trying to cover my own hide here. And I don’t give a damn about half the supernatural creatures on this planet, but the ones that live here, that I know, that you know and love, they would be in danger if you revealed yourself.” He glanced sideways at Derek. “And maybe I don’t want to see the last of my family under some scientific microscope.”

“How the hell do _you_ know what Stiles looks like, as a dragon?” Lydia snapped. She looked from Stiles to Peter. The red rope, looped around Stiles’ shoulders, led directly to Peter. She closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly to try to get the image out of her mind. She had thought that his insistence meant that Stiles would come see her, that she would somehow find herself with an interest in eating ice cream outside or that he would come to love St. Patrick’s Day, even though she knew it would mean Derek would be heartbroken. “Excuse me.” She said quickly, going into the kitchen. 

Allison was off the couch and following the other girl quickly. “What happened?” She asked. “What did you see? What’s wrong with Peter?” She paused. “Other than the usual?”

Lydia held her index finger up, then texted Allison. ‘Derek isn’t Stiles’ true love because Peter is.’ She dragged a chair away from the table and sat down, sighing. 

Allison’s eyes bulged as she read the message. ‘What.’ She texted back. She stared at Lydia in complete and utter astonishment. ‘How in the hell - how does - how could Peter possibly - I’m so confused.’

Lydia nodded. ‘I think this may be a sign to leave the pack.’ She gave Allison a sad smile. ‘I don’t know if I can stomach the idea of Stiles becoming the kind of man that Peter would want.’ 

Allison’s eyes closed on a sigh. ‘I don’t think it would work like that. Not with Stiles. I hope not, anyway. I think if anything, Stiles is more than capable of changing Peter and making him become the type of person that Stiles could want.’ She moved to sit next to Lydia, snuggling against the redhead’s side. ‘I can’t stop you from leaving the pack. I think that you getting away for college sooner rather than later is a good thing, though - you could remain part of the pack, but just be… away from all of this. Stiles hasn’t shown any attraction to Peter, and Peter hasn’t gotten… the way he gets when he’s being inappropriate. And besides, Stiles is still with Derek. You saw the red thread between Stiles and Peter, but that doesn’t mean that their relationship is going to change instantly. It could be years before they do. And Stiles wouldn’t be willing to give up Derek in the meantime.’

Lydia nodded. Despite knowing it left her vulnerable, she whispered, “I just thought it would be me.” 

Allison’s arms went around Lydia in an instant, hugging her tightly and resting her head against Lydia’s with a sigh. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered back.


	10. The Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: This chapter contains underage sex by California laws, but we are not tagging it as such. In London, the age of consent is sixteen.**

Stiles sat down at a table in London, laughing as he looked at people passing by the window. “We should have invited Lydia. She could have told you right away who you were tethered to, you know?” He made a face at himself, thinking of the last time he had heard that word phrased that way. “Sorry.” 

Scott shrugged. “It’s whatever.” He murmured, gazing around at the crowd passing by. He exhaled with a smile. “I like it here. I like London. It feels… it feels so different from Beacon Hills, busy and… well, it’s not bright, it feels kinda gloomy, really, but I like it.”

“Are you going to start looking at schools here?” Stiles teased. “You could probably get in as an exchange student, for senior year.” He wasn’t so sure he liked that idea, but he was willing to let his friends do what they had to do, if it made them stronger. 

Scott laughed. “No, dude. I can’t do that. I mean, I could, but I don’t think I want to. London’s nice for a visit, but I think I’d rather just stay at home for school. Go back home to school?” Scott squinted at Stiles. “You know what I mean.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah.” He eyed the crowd. “I feel like this isn’t enough. We need something drastic.” 

“I like drastic.” Theo smiled. “Can I help?” 

“Sure.” Scott murmured, nodding. He sent the fox a self-deprecating smile. “I could probably use all the help I can get. So… it’s a good thing there’s five of us here.”

Derek came up behind the other three, dropping a kiss to Stiles’ temple before looking around. “I can’t stop this nagging feeling that Gordon Ramsay is going to pop around the corner and start screaming himself hoarse at us uncultured American swine eating at his restaurant.” He murmured. 

“He’s only done that the one time we’ve been here.” Jackson commented. “And it wasn’t at us. In all fairness, some of the people that are native Brits are just as bad.”

“Isn’t he Australian?” Stiles looked confused. He fought the urge to look up the information on his phone. It wasn’t that important. “I think we need to go everywhere to help Scott have a better chance of meeting his OTL.” He grinned, gesturing to a sign down the street. “How do you feel about doing a few shots of tequila?” He asked Scott.

“I feel like I’m really glad that I can’t get drunk.” Scott laughed. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Stiles blurted, his eyes wide at the realization. “Why are we still sitting here? Let’s go find out.” 

Scott snorted out a laugh and stood up. 

Derek grinned. “I think it’s worth seeing what your tolerance is like.” He agreed, nodding. “And looking around different places for Scott’s to-be is much smarter than staying in one spot.”

Theo got up, taking a few more bites of his food in a hurry before he got money out of his wallet and calculated the tip, leaving the money under his plate. 

“Where did you get money?” Stiles asked, intrigued. 

“I’m a thousand years old.” Theo grinned. “You think I let myself be broke? I might not have a lot of money, but I’ve got enough to take care of this.” 

Stiles shrugged and followed the nogitsune toward the restaurant, his gaze scanning the crowd. He wasn’t sure what he was even looking for in another person for Scott to date, but he had a feeling that he would know it when he saw it - if Scott didn’t see it, first. 

Jackson slung an arm around Theo’s shoulders, lifting his head to kiss his boyfriend as they walked. “You didn’t think I was being a sugar daddy, did you?” Jackson asked Stiles, grinning. 

“I did, actually.” Stiles admitted. “But I should’ve known better. Sorry for assuming things.” He looked embarrassed, glancing down at his shoes as he wondered why Peter’s offer to buy him a new radio was the first thing he thought of. 

“It’s cool.” Jackson told him. 

Derek glanced at Stiles, reaching around to hug him with one arm. He looked up at Scott and said, “Why don’t you go ahead and find that place, Wahaca. We’re right behind you.”

Scott nodded. “Sure. Don’t take too long.” He hurried ahead. 

Stiles turned, putting his arms around Derek’s waist. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly, pushing his troubling thoughts aside. He wanted to go back to ignoring every problem and waiting it out. He didn’t like that Peter had managed to get into his head and mess with him from thousands of miles away. 

Derek slid his own arms around Stiles, his fingers lightly tangling in the hair at the back of Stiles’ head. “I’m fine. I’m more concerned about you. You look a little out of sorts.” He studied his boyfriend, his eyes soft. “Are _you_ alright?”

“I will be.” Stiles looked up at Derek, hoping that would be enough of an answer. He sighed softly, knowing better. If the situation was reversed, he wouldn’t let it go, either. “Peter bought me a new radio for the Jeep.” He admitted. “I couldn’t pick up any radio stations on mine. I really need to scrap the whole thing.” He clenched his teeth, angry with himself for saying it out loud. “It’s just... it was my mom’s, and I _can’t_ , you know? I can’t let it go. It’s like you and the house. Right? Anyway, I asked him what he wanted and he said he didn’t want anything. I don’t know if I believe him. I shouldn’t have let him do it. Scott even thinks that Peter can be redeemed, and I know better, and he asked me if I wasn’t suspicious of Peter’s intentions by getting me something. And I’m not. And that’s... that’s fucking dumb.” 

Derek rubbed Stiles’ back gently, furrowing his brow and trying to soothe his boyfriend. “It’s always good to be suspicious of Peter.” He said quietly. “As a rule of thumb. Because you never know what he’s up to, and if he’s done you a favor, there’s always the possibility that he’ll come to collect when you least expect it. I don’t want to think that he’d screw you over that way, that he’d do something considered kind to take advantage of you, but… he’s changed since the fire. Hell, he’s changed since last year. I don’t know what he’s all about now.” He lifted his free hand and cupped Stiles’ cheek lightly. “The only thing I can tell you to do right now in regards to Peter is to just… be wary. See if you can encourage some kind of change in him, a good change, but don’t invest yourself. I don’t want to see you get hurt if it turns out he’s just running another game.” He exhaled, studying Stiles. “I know the Jeep is important to you. It’ll always be important to you. So… if you need help fixing it, getting new parts, doing whatever you can to keep it running, come to me. I’ll help. But I think you know that it’s just a Jeep. It took me a long time to remember that the house in the woods isn’t my family. It’s just where I had my best memories of them. And… losing them was hard. It’s still hard. But they’re still with me.” He bent his head to kiss Stiles softly. “Like your mom is always with you.”

Stiles nodded, using the heel of his hand to wipe tears away from his eyes. “I need to get a job, when we go back. I want to save up and get myself something. Myself.” He repeated, feeling like he needed to emphasize that. “It’s going to take me awhile to save up, but I know I can do it.” 

Derek smiled gently at him and nodded in agreement. “I know you can do it, too. And in the meantime, if you want me to help you with fixing up the car, I expect payment. Reasonable payment.” His lips twitched a little. “Of whatever you deem reasonable. Either way, whatever you want to do, I’ve got your back.”

Stiles kissed Derek again. “So you don’t want to be my sugar daddy?” He laughed. 

“I’d rather be a regular dad, if we’re being honest with each other.” Derek admitted, kissing Stiles back happily. “Not for awhile, yet, but… maybe one day I won’t be so messed up and worried about traumatizing any spawn I might have.”

“First of all, you’re not messed up.” Stiles shook his head. “You’re not cutting the legs off of woodland creatures and escalating to worse things. You’re traumatized, yourself. Even before Jennifer decided to use you, Kate did. I know all of that. I’ll never forget about it and expect you to suddenly be some kind of sitcom character. I’m not saying it to rehash it, either. I’m just saying that I know. And one day, when I’m at least halfway done with college, but preferably completely done with it, we can have this conversation again. I’m giving us some time.” He grinned. “Because I don’t plan on ending things, and I don’t think you do, either. If I’m wrong, shut up and let me be wrong.” He teased, then eyed Derek for a moment, getting his phone out of his pocket and opening the calendar app. He checked the date, then scrolled ahead six years. “I’m making this our plan right now.” He commented, typing the information in for December eighteenth, two thousand seventeen. “In exactly six years, we’re going to talk about adopting. Unless, by some miracle, we can get pregnant.” He snorted. 

“As far as I know, neither of us can.” Derek teased, tugging Stiles closer and wrapping his arms around him from behind. He gazed down at the phone, resting his head against Stiles’. “I’m not planning on ending this. Not if I can help it. We’re in this together. And as soon as we get back to the hotel, we’re kicking Scott out and spending a little time alone together.”

“I’m definitely okay with that.” Stiles put his phone back into his pocket. “We’d better hurry up and get over there. Jackson doesn’t like me a whole lot, but he likes Scott less. He’s going to yell at us for making him babysit.” He laughed. 

Derek let out a laugh of his own. “He’ll get over it. Of course, if Scott manages to find his… what did you call it? His OTL? It won’t matter much, he’ll be too busy swooning over them.”

“I just hope it’s not drunken swooning.” Stiles smiled. 

Derek glanced at Stiles in amusement. “Could still be pretty funny if it was.” He tucked Stiles against him with one arm. 

“Oh, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to record it.” Stiles nodded. “I’m going to play it at their wedding.” 

Derek looked proud, reeling Stiles toward him for a kiss. “I look forward to it.” He murmured. 

By the time they got to Wahaca, Stiles was writing himself a reminder to pick up some chapstick. He glanced up, doing a double-take at the sight of Scott sitting with a brunette who was laughing at something. He sat down by Jackson and Theo. “What the hell?” 

“She’s our waitress.” Theo laughed. “She’s on break and she insisted on taking it as soon as she met Scott.” 

Jackson didn’t look up from his phone, smirking. “McCall took one look and spat tequila all over himself.”

“Please tell me you have that recorded.” Stiles murmured. 

“It’s like you don’t know me at all, Stilinski.” Jackson snorted. He stopped recording and tossed the phone over to Stiles, grinning. 

Stiles turned, angling the phone so that Derek could watch with him as he hit play. 

_“I’m Hayden and I’ll be your - hi.” The waitress smiled at Scott. “Uh, your waitress. Sorry.”_

_Scott stared up at Hayden, blinking dumbly as his mouth fell open. The tequila that he’d been drinking when Hayden had approached slopped right out of his mouth and down the front of his shirt, and he let out a mortified noise, flailing for a napkin. “Oh my_ god _,” he whined. “I’m sorry, that was so - gross, and ugh, and - my name is Scott. McCall. Uh, Scott McCall. Wait, you’re not British?”_

_Hayden laughed softly, shaking her head. “I’m here as an exchange student. My sister lives in California, but she can’t really afford to take care of me, so I signed up to be here. I’m working to save up for college.”_

_Scott sat straight up, immediately interested. “That’s really cool! I was planning to go to a community college and save up enough money before I went to college, but I never thought of being in an exchange program. Where in California are you from? I’m from Beacon Hills.”_

_“Are you serious?” Hayden blurted. “My sister just moved there. She’s a deputy. We were in Shasta, but she moved closer to work because my medical bills and medication are pretty expensive.” She bit her lip. “I feel a little weird, telling you that.” After a few seconds, she shrugged. “Hold on, okay?” She grinned at him, then walked away. A few minutes later, she sat down across from Scott, holding a bottle of water. “I’m on my break.”_

_Scott stared at her, beaming, and didn’t even notice when Jackson snorted and got up from the table, motioning Theo along. “Okay.” He breathed. “My best friend’s dad is the Sheriff there. That’s so cool. And - uh, you don’t have to feel weird about telling me.” He added. “If I could… um, could I ask… what medications do you take? I used to need a prescription inhaler for some really bad asthma.”_

_“Why don’t you need it anymore?” Hayden gave Scott a curious smile. “I’ll answer your question in a minute, I promise.”_

_Scott laughed a little awkwardly. “Medication, mostly. Uh, real innovative. Also, I grew out of it. Mostly.”_

Stiles sent the video to his own phone, handing Jackson’s phone back to him and looking up at Hayden and Scott as the girl started speaking again. 

“I had a kidney transplant.” Hayden reached for Scott’s hand. “So that’s what my medication is for. I feel really - I don’t do this, ever. But I want to give you my phone number. That’s probably crazy, isn’t it?” She laughed. 

Scott was staring at their hands with wide eyes, before he slowly looked up at her. “I don’t think that’s crazy at all.” He admitted. Or at least, he thought, it wasn’t as crazy as what he was already imagining, but he wasn’t going to tell her any of that.

Hayden wrote her phone number down on a napkin and held it out to Scott. “How long are you here?” 

Scott took the napkin, looking reverent as he held it close to his chest. “Uh, just for a week. Holiday break.”

“Right.” Hayden blushed. “I’m here until the middle of June, and then I’ll be in Beacon Hills, this summer. Six months feels like a long time, all of a sudden.” She opened her mouth, then faltered and shook her head. “What grade are you in?” 

Scott licked his lips. “I’m a junior. Is that - is that different here? Uh, eleventh grade?”

“I’m a freshman.” Hayden murmured. “It is a little different here, but I still know what the years are, in the States.” She laughed softly. “So next year, you’ll be a senior. What are you doing for college? Do you know yet?” 

Scott laughed softly. “I’ve known since I was a kid. I’m going to be a veterinarian.”

“Okay, but where are you going to school?” Hayden shook her head at herself, opening her bottle of water and taking a drink. “I’m sorry. I know I just came over here and started talking to you like we’ve known each other for years instead of minutes. I’m asking because my school has a location in the States, but it’s in Boston. That’s...” She frowned. “Have you ever had a feeling like something really good was going to happen, and then it did?” 

“Honestly?” Scott tapped the fingers of his free hand on the table, looking thoughtful. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck, so it’s kinda hard to think that a good thing is just a good thing and not… something that’s going to rear its ugly head and bite me in the butt, you know? But I think… I mean, I _have_ had that feeling before.” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t think I know what school I want to go to just yet. I haven’t really picked. I know I was mostly set to stay in California, so that I wouldn’t be too far away from my mom.”

Hayden smiled politely, glancing at her watch. “I need to get back to work.” She mumbled, grabbing her bottle of water and leaving the table. 

Stiles walked over to Scott, smacking him in the back of the head as he sat down across from him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Scott stared after Hayden, and then sighed, dropping his head to the table. “Isn’t it obvious?” He mumbled. “I’m a moron.”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “Okay, you’re both insane, but then, I don’t know what I expected. You and Allison were using the L-word before you’d been together a month, it makes sense that the one person in the world who you’re meant to be with for life would immediately alter her plans around what you’re doing. Still, she’s freaked out by how quickly she got twitterpated, and I don’t get how you can’t see that. She probably wanted reassurance that you felt it, too. You shot her down. Go talk to her!” 

Scott looked horrified. “I didn’t mean to shoot her down.” He blurted. “I didn’t want to shoot her down.” He scrambled after Hayden, a low whine in the back of his throat. “Hayden? Hayden, wait!”

Hayden turned to face Scott. “I know, you think I’m weird.” She blurted. “I’m sorry I bothered you, Scott.” 

Scott shook his head frantically, skidding to a stop in front of her and grabbing both of her hands in his. “No, no, no,” he said. “I don’t think you’re weird. I think I’m oblivious and kind of an idiot and I’m kind of wondering if I’m dooming you to spend forever with me and how dumb I can be, but you’re totally not weird. And even if you are, I’m probably going to like it. I like you. I know it’s early, I mean, we didn’t know each other until literally, like, half an hour ago, but… I really like you. And… my friend Stiles was talking to me about enrolling in school here and finishing up high school in London and I’m pretty sure it was just a joke, but I told him I wasn’t interested, and then I saw you and now I’m kinda rethinking it because I really kind of don’t want to go back to Beacon Hills if you aren’t there with me.”

Hayden’s eyes searched Scott’s face for any sign that he was messing with her. She smiled slowly. “A friend of mine has tarot cards.” She made a face at how that might sound. “She did my reading last week and told me that I would meet someone who was going to change my whole life, and I figured she was just reading the cards wrong. But I saw you and I felt like - well, I think you understand what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” 

Scott smiled softly, gazing at her. “I definitely do.” He said. “We - uh, a group of us. Of my friends. We - cast spells. For our… our true love. Um… our one true love. The only person we’re ever going to be with.” He lifted his eyes to gaze into hers. “And the second I saw you, I knew.”

“You don’t have to move here.” Hayden turned her hands a little, lacing her fingers with his. “I’m going to come back to Beacon Hills and I’ll just have to work harder to make sure my sister can afford to feed me.” She got a determined look in her eyes. “I’ll have all summer to save up whatever I can. And you’ll be in school with me for a year, and then when you graduate, we’ll have to have a different plan. If I end up by myself for two years while you’re in college, that’s okay. I’ll just have to make sure I can get into school with you or near you. Maybe we should slow down.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I didn’t even tell you my last name. It’s Romero. Just so you know it. I need to keep this job while I’m here, so I need to get back to work. But if you want to keep drinking coffee or something, I can keep serving it to you, until my shift is over.” 

Scott grinned at her, lifting her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I’ll be here.” He promised her. “I’m not wasting a single second that I can spend with you. I need every second I can get if I’m not going to see you until you get back to Beacon Hills. I’ll do everything I can to help you, anything it takes to help you. And we’ll figure things out, for after school. I’m not going to worry about it until it happens, I just - I just want to be with you.”

Stiles listened to Scott and Hayden talking. He smiled to himself and got his wallet out of his pocket, opening it and leaving half of the wallet’s contents on the table. He didn’t care if Hayden really was Scott’s true love, though he was certain that she was. He hadn’t seen Scott that happy or determined in awhile, and he could practically feel Hayden being accepted into the pack. He wanted to make sure she had what she needed, so the tip he was leaving would help with that. He looked up at Derek. “We might as well go. Scott’s going to be here for a while.” 

Derek looked back at Stiles with a smile. “I figured.” He murmured, and stood up, reaching for Stiles’ hand. “Jackson dragged Theo to the bar. I think we’re free to go on without them.”

Stiles grabbed his coat, pulling it on. “Do you want to go to the hotel, or somewhere else?” 

Derek tilted his head as he zipped up his own jacket. “We could go for a walk along the Thames, and then head back to the hotel?”

Stiles nodded. He passed Scott, patting his shoulder. “We’re going to the hotel. If you need directions later, call me.” 

Scott nodded absently, still gazing at Hayden with a goofy smile on his face. “Okay.” He agreed. “See ya back there.”

Derek watched in amusement, then lightly patted Scott’s back. “See you later.” He agreed, wrapping his arm around Stiles. 

Stiles leaned against Derek as they walked outside. He turned toward his boyfriend, kissing him. “I’m so glad we came here.” 

Derek smiled down at him and kissed him back. “Me, too.” He murmured. “This is… probably the best time I’ve had in a long time.”

“Me too.” Stiles laughed. “I mean, I’ve never been overseas before.” 

Derek grinned softly. “It’s not just that.” He murmured. “Everything’s been really… rough. For a really long time. And… with you, it’s not. It’s fun, it’s relaxing, it’s just… good. Everything about it is good. So… yeah, being overseas is great - I never really thought I’d ever get to leave the States - but I like it more because of you.”

“Why?” Stiles grinned back at Derek. “We’re not really doing anything but eating food and walking around.” 

“Exactly.” Derek looked at him. “We’re not running for our damn lives. We’re just… relaxing. Being tourists. I like it.”

“I do, too.” Stiles nodded. “I want to spend some time touring our hotel room, though.” He shrugged. “Besides, Scott won’t bother us right now, he’s busy.” 

“For a while, probably.” Derek agreed, nodding sagely. “We should probably make use of it.”

“I think the Thames will still be here, in a few hours.” Stiles remarked. “But our hotel room won’t be devoid of Scott forever.” He reached for Derek’s hand.

Derek stopped walking, twining his fingers around Stiles’. He gazed at him for a long moment, smiling softly. “Let’s go.” He murmured.

Stiles was quiet as he walked along the roads with Derek. As confident as he had been recently, he was pretty sure his palms were sweating. He wasn’t scared or worried, but he did feel nervous that he would do something horrible and make the entire experience awful, or that Derek would laugh at him. 

“Stop.” Derek said softly, looking at his boyfriend. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” He lifted Stiles’ hand and kissed it gently, looking earnest. 

“I’m thinking about how I might mess things up.” Stiles admitted. “But yeah, I’ll stop.” He looked from Derek’s hand to his mouth. “Right now, absolutely stopping.” 

Derek pulled him closer for a kiss. “You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. You aren’t going to mess anything up. I promise.”

“Okay.” Stiles spoke against Derek’s lips as he kissed back. The rest of the walk to the hotel, he thought about the bedroom and refused to let himself worry. He pushed the button for the elevator and looked up at the LED screen over the doors, watching for the elevator to get to the lobby. 

Derek’s eyes were locked on Stiles, unwilling to look away. His fingers slid through Stiles’s hair gently, and trailed down to the nape of his neck before he smiled softly. The elevator let out a soft tone as it arrived, the doors sliding open with a whoosh, and Derek once more slid his arm around Stiles as he walked them inside of it. He pressed the button to the floor of the room they were sharing with Scott, then leaned back expectantly.

Stiles turned toward Derek, kissing him softly as he braced one hand on the wall of the elevator. He thought of how it felt to fly and how kissing Derek wasn’t a whole lot different. He smiled as he pulled away, walking backward off the elevator as he still held Derek’s hand. 

Derek smiled back, following Stiles leisurely as they walked toward the hotel room. When they reached the door, Derek slipped out his keycard, swiping it through the panel and opening the door before encouraging Stiles gently inside. “After you.” He murmured. 

Stiles winked at Derek as he walked into the room, turning to face his boyfriend when he got to their bedroom. He licked his lips, kicking his shoes off. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to just undress himself or let Derek do it, and he didn’t want to ask. He decided to just wait and let Derek make a few decisions about what they would end up doing.

Derek closed the door behind them, then turned and immediately made his way toward Stiles, gathering the younger man closer and kissing him deeply. “I’m going to do this right.” He promised. “I’m going to make this as perfect as I can for you.”

“Statistically, something is going to end up going wrong.” Stiles blurted, then made a face. “Shit, don’t let me talk, I’ll mess it up by talking about how it might get messed up.” He kissed Derek quickly, then tilted his head to start kissing the older man’s neck. 

Derek tilted his head back with a sigh that turned into a soft laugh. “Contrary to what I’ve always said?” He slipped his hands around Stiles’ waist and yanked him close, kissing along Stiles’ neck. “I actually really like it when you talk.”

Stiles groaned, smiling. “So you want me to keep talking, then?” He asked quietly, looking up at Derek. 

Derek’s hands slid up the inside of Stiles’ shirt and paused as he gazed back at the younger man. “I feel like this is a question that’s going to send tonight into an entirely different direction than I expected, but… yes. Yeah. I do.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured. “I’ve thought about this a lot.” He lifted his arms to encourage Derek to take his shirt off of him. “It wasn’t ever like this. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.” He smiled, teasing Derek. “In the meantime, I want you to just focus on my voice and help me get undressed.”

Derek grinned back, nodding as he tugged Stiles’ shirt up and over his head. “I can most definitely do that.” He murmured, tossing the shirt to the ground carelessly. His hands slipped over Stiles’ arms and down to his hands, tugging them up to rest on Derek’s shoulders before he slid a free hand between them and unfastened the fly of Stiles’ jeans. 

Stiles’ lips parted and he watched Derek. “Don’t take too long.” He smiled. “I want to be able to touch you, too. I’ve wanted that for a while. What kind of things have you thought about, with me?” 

“I’ve kinda thought about everything with you.” Derek murmured, sliding down to his knees and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ stomach as he slid Stiles’ zipper down. He tugged the jeans off of Stiles’ hips, letting them hit the ground as he trailed his lips lower. “And I’m sure you can guess what some of those things might be. I’m about to act out one of them now.”

Stiles nodded, then remembered what he had promised to do. “Yeah.” He kept his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “I was already planning on something like this, myself.” He lifted one hand, running his fingers through Derek’s hair. 

“Good.” Derek murmured. His fingers tangled in Stiles’ underwear, yanking them down. He paused for a moment, looking up at Stiles. “I… I might be bad at this.” He admitted, before slipping his lips around Stiles’ half-hard erection, bobbing his head slowly.

Stiles watched Derek, his eyes half-closed. “I don’t know if you think that because you have low self-esteem or if somebody treated you like crap and lied to you.” He murmured. “But I have zero complaints.” He moved back a couple of steps, sitting on the bed as he kept his hand on Derek’s shoulder, guiding him along. “I really like the way your mouth feels on me.” 

Derek kneeled over Stiles, his hands trailing up and down Stiles’ bare hips. “I like the way you feel in my mouth, so that works out nicely.” He laughed softly, giving Stiles another slow, lingering lick. 

Stiles’ hips arched up toward Derek’s mouth, and he gripped the bedspread in his free hand, exhaling softly. “Do you want me to warn you before I come, or do you want it?” 

“I want it.” Derek murmured, pushing Stiles’ leg up and over his shoulder. “But give me a little warning. I want to be ready.” He went quiet then, ducking his head down and swallowing around Stiles eagerly, his hands gripping his boyfriend’s limbs. 

Stiles kept his gaze on Derek, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. All he could focus on was the sound of his own breathing and the way Derek’s mouth felt, wrapped around his cock. Then, suddenly, it was like someone had jolted him with a cattle prod. “Oh god, I’m close.” He blurted. 

Derek growled quietly, moving faster as Stiles spoke, taking his words as encouragement. The fingers of one hand moved down from his arm and over his hip, slipping across Stiles’ thigh before settling between his boyfriend’s legs. After a moment’s pause, Derek pressed the pad of his index finger gently against Stiles, feeling as the muscles tensed gently under his pressure, but he went no further - not yet.

Stiles tightened his grip on the bedspread as he came, his head lolling to the side. It took him a minute to regain focus, and he lifted his hand from the bed and gestured for Derek to come lay down beside him. He couldn’t think of what he wanted to say. Everything felt like it wasn’t enough, in terms of what he had just experienced. 

Derek dropped down on the mattress next to Stiles, slipping an arm around his waist and pressing slow, lingering kisses to his neck. He couldn’t even describe to himself how he felt - he hadn’t come, but he still felt relaxed, boneless, almost like he had. 

Stiles rubbed Derek’s back, then laughed. “I’m naked and you’re still fully-clothed. That’s unacceptable.” He got up and leaned over the bed to unfasten Derek’s jeans. 

Derek watched silently, a grin on his face, and he arched his hips to help Stiles get the jeans off, one of his hands dropping to the back of Stiles’ neck with a low, content sigh. “Trust me, I didn’t intend that.” He laughed softly, playing with the small hairs at the nape of Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles braced a hand on the bed and moved to kiss Derek before he nudged him. “Sit up and take off your shirt.” 

Derek kissed Stiles back, easily lifting himself into a sitting position to tug his shirt off. He slid his arm around Stiles as he reclined again, dragging the younger man with him.

Stiles smiled as he looked down at Derek, stretching out over him. “What do you want, more than anything?” 

Derek smiled back, tilting his head. “Is it cheesy if I say, ‘you,’?” He asked. 

“A little.” Stiles nodded. “But what I meant was, what do you want me to do?” 

Derek looked up at him, his eyes soft. “I’m not particular. Really. I’m happy with anything you do.” He paused. “But if you really want to know, I wouldn’t mind you paying me back.” His lips twitched, and he wiggled his hips a little. 

“I was already planning on it.” Stiles grinned. “I just wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted _first_ , or if you wanted something else first.” 

“I think we should save the main event for last.” Derek murmured, tilting his head to kiss him.

Stiles moved one of his knees, coming to rest beside Derek’s hip as he started stroking his boyfriend’s erection. After a moment, he leaned down and took the head of Derek’s cock into his mouth. He let his mind go blank, refusing to get nervous or wonder if he was doing everything wrong. 

The moment Stiles’ lips touched Derek, the older man arched up and moaned, his mouth falling open. 

Stiles looked up at Derek, smiling in satisfaction as his mouth followed the same rhythm his hand had started. It didn’t take long before he was sinking down to take Derek’s entire length into his mouth. 

Derek began panting, his eyes going slightly wide and his pupils dilating. He gazed down at Stiles, reaching out to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair, thrusting up gently and being mindful not to choke his boyfriend, though it was getting harder to hold still and let Stiles do what he needed to do.

Stiles gripped one of Derek’s hips, squeezing gently in an effort to encourage the older man to do what he wanted, without having to stop long enough to say it. 

Derek groaned out loud, his hips jerking upward. “Jesus christ, Stiles,” he blurted, sounding strangled. “Oh, god, please, I’m close.”

Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s hip, his movements faster now that he was closer to his goal. Using his free hand, he reached down to fondle Derek, since sometimes Stiles himself couldn’t get off just from jerking off and he knew what worked for him and what didn’t. 

Curses spilled from Derek’s lips, and his hips jerked out of his control. His fingers tightened on every part of Stiles that he could reach, scrabbling for purchase as he came with a roar. 

Stiles swallowed as he pulled back, staring at Derek as he sat up. “I don’t know whether I’m more proud of myself or awestruck by what just happened with that.” He gestured to Derek, grinning. “If I hadn’t already come, that would’ve done it.” 

Derek snorted, stroking Stiles’ hair lazily. “That would be interesting to see. I’d kind of like to see you come untouched.”

“I could do that while we’re here.” Stiles blurted. “I’ve done it before.” He rubbed his mouth, shrugging. “I’m going to brush my teeth, but I’ll come back right after.” 

Derek grinned. “Alright. I’ll be right here.”

Stiles got up from the bed and went into the bathroom, grabbing his travel kit and taking the toothbrush and toothpaste out of it. He brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth, going back into the bedroom to lay down beside Derek. “I always figured that it would be awkward.” He admitted. “I’m relieved that it wasn’t.” 

Derek turned a bit so that he could slip his arm around Stiles, tucking his boyfriend under his arm. “I am too. I don’t think I ever imagined that it would be awkward. I mostly imagined that… listen, you know I come down hard on myself. I kinda thought that if we ever did this, I’d screw it up somehow.”

“I think if you had freaked out, I probably would have climbed you like a tree.” Stiles laughed. “While telling you that everything was fine, I mean. I wouldn’t just... avoid getting consent.” 

Derek snorted, leaning in to kiss Stiles. “I know.” He murmured. “I think you’re the last person who would ever do anything to anyone without consent.”

“I just don’t want you to ever misunderstand me.” Stiles put his arm around Derek. “I already did put you in a bad situation, getting you to take off your shirt in front of Danny. That - regardless of any reason I felt justified, that wasn’t okay. I know that.” 

“Well, I didn’t need to whack your head off of your steering wheel to make my displeasure known.” Derek murmured, nuzzling against him. “I am sorry I did that, by the way. I forgot, a lot of the time. That you were human.”

“Well, I’m not. Not anymore, at least.” Stiles smiled. “It’s a little weird.” 

Derek cupped Stiles’ chin and kissed him again. “I can imagine. I also think it’s amazing.”

“Do you want to see?” Stiles looked around the room. “Not in here, but maybe we can find a good place for it. Stonehenge.” He laughed. “That would be hilarious. I know Peter’s opinion is that I need to stay hidden, but I don’t want to. I’m trying to be careful, but - I don’t know.” 

Derek looked thoughtfully down at him. “Sherwood.” He said eventually. “Stonehenge might have visitors. Sherwood Forest might be perfect.”

Stiles tilted his head. “Do you have some kind of Robin Hood fantasy?” He teased. “We should talk about this.” 

Derek smirked. “You mean, we should talk about the idea of you in kelly green tights, and launching an arrow into the eye of a target?”

“The last time I picked up a crossbow, I almost murdered Scott.” Stiles remarked. “But we could pretend I did something cool like that. Not murdering Scott. Your idea.” 

“Mhmm.” Derek’s lips twitched. “I figured. So. Sherwood? Or… some other dense forest in England?”

“Sherwood.” Stiles said firmly, grinning. “If there’s anywhere in England to find a dragon, that would be the place for it, right?” 

“That’d be the first place I’d look for one,” Derek teased. “You want to go now, or nap for a little bit first?”

“Oh, we’re taking a nap.” Stiles laughed. “I don’t get to lay down with you that often and I’m taking full advantage of the fact that Scott isn’t here. We don’t have to get dressed, we can just sleep.” 

“That sounds perfect.” Derek agreed. He smirked after a moment. “Scott’s going to lose his mind when he catches our scent in here. He’s going to cry. I kind of hope he does, anyway.”

“God, the two of you really are like brothers.” Stiles snorted. “Which is a little troubling, since he and I are _also_ like brothers.” 

Derek laughed. “Then think of Scott and I like cousins instead. Very distant cousins. Removed several times.”

“Much better.” Stiles got up, moving the bedspread back from the bed. “Get up, I want to get under the blanket. Just because we’re naked doesn’t mean I want Scott to see that.” He laughed. “We might as well wait until tomorrow to go to the forest, I think. It’s getting late and I want to do other things if we have the opportunity, when we wake up.” 

Derek grinned and rolled slightly off of the bed to set the covers free. He lifted them a second later, pulling Stiles back against his chest and pressing a kiss against his ear. “I do, too. I want lots of opportunities to do a lot of things. And… hearing Scott scream whenever he finally gets back isn’t something I need, so I’m good with the covers, too.” His fingers lightly stroked over Stiles’ stomach. “And tomorrow, we’ll go to the forest. Your choice after that.”

Stiles wriggled back against Derek, smiling to himself. “I have a lot of ideas.” He murmured, yawning. 

Derek echoed the yawn a second later, resting his head against Stiles’, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “We’ll go through all of them.” He hummed.


	11. The Question

It was dark when Stiles woke up, and he got out of bed and pulled on his boxers, wandering through the hotel suite to see if Scott was back yet. His stomach growled and he grabbed the room service menu before he knocked on the door for Scott’s bedroom. 

Scott opened the door, blearily staring out at Stiles. “Dude. What… it’s still dark out, what’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to see if you were okay, and I’m hungry.” Stiles smiled. “How did your date go?” 

A silly smile appeared on Scott’s face. “Dude, it was the best.” He murmured, sighing happily. “I’ll come get breakfast with you, if you wanna talk.” A sly smirk appeared on his face. “I noticed that Derek’s bedroom door’s been open all night. And he hasn’t been inside. And the bed’s still made.”

“Oh, that’s because I killed him.” Stiles said calmly. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Omelets. Like, two.” Scott looked at him. “Also, that explains a lot. So the sex was so good you killed him?”

Stiles nodded. “With my dick. He’s sleeping it off. I’ll bring him something. Give me a few minutes to get dressed?” 

Scott laughed. “Yeah, I’ll give you however long you want. I gotta get dressed, too.”

Stiles went back into his bedroom, going straight through and into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He dried off and got dressed, swishing mouthwash around in his mouth and spitting it out before he left the room to wait for Scott. 

Scott was out several minutes later, scrubbing a hand over his hair and yawning. “Those beds are insanely comfy, dude. I think I could sleep on it all day.”

“But you won’t, because you want to see your new girlfriend.” Stiles grinned. “I’m happy for you.” 

Scott ducked his head shyly, unable to keep the smile from stretching all the way across his face. “She’s amazing, Stiles.” He said softly. “She’s just so sweet and cool and kind of badass because how many people do you know have gone into an exchange program that puts them on the other side of the planet?”

“Um, every exchange student?” Stiles laughed. “That’s kind of the point of the exchange program. But yeah, she seems like she really likes you, too.” 

Scott glanced up at Stiles, flushing a little. “I… we’re already trying to think of what we can do to stay together, and keep in touch. I’m really even reconsidering whatever college I end up at. I’ll have to wait a few years for her to finish, unless she graduates early, but… I want to go to school with her.”

“Well, you could just do online courses.” Stiles suggested. “That would keep you in Beacon Hills.” 

Scott blinked rapidly, looking at Stiles. “Dude, I didn’t even think of that.” He blurted. 

Stiles grinned. “It’s okay, that’s why I’m here.” He shrugged one shoulder at Scott. “Let’s go find food before I end up flying off and eating some poor farmer’s cow.” 

Scott snorted. “Dude, I know you like your hamburgers, but even as a dragon, let’s make sure you cook ‘em first.” He teased. 

“Hey, this all started because I ate raw steak.” Stiles reminded Scott. “That sounds really good right now.” He wrote Derek a note and left it on the bed, then walked out of the hotel room and toward the elevator. 

Scott bumped his shoulder gently against Stiles’. “So, you and Derek. How are things going, really? Sex aside?”

“He’s great.” Stiles smiled. “We were talking about adopting. Not in a serious, right now sort of way. But later. I made a reminder on my calendar. Six years from now, we’re going to talk about it again.” 

“I was about to say, man.” Scott breathed out. “Almost gave me a heart attack. Holy hell. So… really, then, you see this as long term?”

“Yeah.” Stiles gave Scott a curious look. “Why wouldn’t I? Derek’s my person. I mean, he has to be. He wants to go to the forest with me tomorrow, and it was his idea.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Scott murmured. “I just meant that… like, you’ve already mentioned adopting to each other. It’s just… I’m trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I want him.” Stiles smiled. “And I feel like, it makes sense, him and me. I was at the station, the night of the fire. I remembered him the second I saw him, in the woods. And he deserves someone good in his life. I want to be that person.” He laughed, running a hand over his face when he realized that neither of them had pushed the button for the elevator. He pressed the down button and looked over at Scott again. “Aren’t you already thinking about having kids with Hayden?” 

Scott’s face promptly adopted the silly expression he’d been wearing since the moment he’d met Hayden. “We haven’t said anything to each other. Yes. But yeah, I do. I mean, I am. I just - how can I not?” He paused and looked at Stiles, stepping into the elevator when it arrived. He grinned. “Okay, yeah, I get it.”

Stiles nodded, getting in after Scott. “I want to adopt six kids.” He blurted. “To make sure Derek gets a big family, since he doesn’t have one anymore.” 

“Wow.” Scott blurted, staring at his best friend. “That’s… that’s really cool, dude. Does Derek have a number in mind?”

“I don’t even know!” Stiles laughed. “I would ask, but I want to wait.” 

Scott laughed, too. “Yeah, waiting is probably a good idea. I have to keep reminding myself, Hayden is nowhere near done with school, and I still have senior year left. By the time I graduate college and go into undergrad studies, she’ll just be starting her college career. I’m not gonna knock her up just because I can’t control myself, so… I guess I’d better learn how to control myself.” He fell silent, a stricken expression crossing his face as the elevator let out a soft tone. “That… doesn’t sound creepy at all.”

“It does.” Stiles agreed. “But you want her to have babies with you. Take some time and get to know her, yeah? Talk to her for a few months before you bring it up. Like, this summer. That would be an okay time to ask her what she thinks about having kids.” 

Scott nodded. “Right, yeah. That’s a good plan.” He looked at Stiles. “You should do that, too. I mean, you and Derek have already been together longer than I’ve even known Hayden. You should… keep getting to know him and then bring up the adoption thing, too. Just in passing. Not in a ‘we need to make babies right now’ sorta way.”

“I would, but I feel like it makes more sense to wait?” Stiles mused. “If I mention it, I’ll be thinking about it and I won’t stop thinking about it. I want to go to college. I don’t even know where, yet. With Lyds and Jackson and Theo all going to Boston, I figure I should look at schools there? We all should.” 

“What if we don’t get in to any of the schools we’d pick out there?” Scott asked, frowning and stepping out of the elevator once it had stopped. 

Stiles followed Scott through the building and outside, thinking. “Okay. I was reading about this the other day, and the recommended number of schools you should use, as a limit for applications, is twenty. But that doesn’t mean we can’t apply to more. And if we each applied to something like, fifty? Then we can sort through the acceptance letters and rejection letters, and make decisions after that. It’s not forever. I mean, Lydia’s only going to be in college for three years, instead of four. And by the time we’re ready for college, she’ll only have two years left. Whatever happens, even if we all end up at different schools, it’s temporary.” 

Scott swallowed and nodded. “Temporary.” He repeated softly. “Right. Okay. So… when we get back, we should start making a list of schools we’d want to apply to.” He paused. “Oh, unless you and Derek are going to be busy doing stuff today? And by ‘doing stuff’, I don’t mean each other.”

“We can make a list on the way to the forest, and you could come with.” Stiles smiled. “And the other guys, too. I actually want to spend time with everyone. I didn’t just invite them into the pack for nothing.” 

“They left the restaurant after I did, I think.” Scott murmured. “Heck, one of them might still be awake. Why are you going to the forest?”

“To show Derek my alpha form.” Stiles smiled. “I can’t just shift in the middle of the hotel room, or out on the street.” He looked around, hoping to see a restaurant with lights on.

Scott snickered a little and pointed at a building. “Look. There’s a place in there called The Duck and Waffle.” He peered closely at the sign. “Says they’re open twenty-four hours. Wanna check it out?”

“Yes.” Stiles grinned. “But I might be morally opposed to eating ducks. I guess we’ll know after I read the menu.” He turned toward Scott as they walked toward the restaurant. “It feels strange that we’re going back at the end of the week. So much has already happened here and we’re not even done.”

“I know.” Scott murmured in agreement, glancing at his friend. His head swiveled as they entered, and he looked around curiously. “Is it bad that I was sort of expecting a lot of ducks and waffles in the decor?” He asked, frowning. 

“Kitschy wallpaper?” Stiles guessed. “Maybe.” He smiled and sat down at a booth. “So, tell me about her. I know you want to.”

Scott laughed and sat down across from Stiles. “She’s amazing.” He murmured. “Her parents aren’t really in the picture, but she has a sister. Her sister’s kinda the reason why she’s doing this exchange program. Hayden basically took things into her own hands, because she said her sister couldn’t afford to take care of them both, so she enrolled in the exchange program here, and she’s making money on the side so that she’s got enough saved up for college. Oh, her sister’s working with your dad, by the way. New deputy.” He leaned back in his seat, smiling fondly. “She was originally from Shasta, but they moved to Beacon Hills. She, uh… she’s had a kidney transplant. So she had a lot of medical bills and stuff.”

“I know all of that. I saw the recap.” Stiles laughed. “What else?”

“You saw the…” Scott blinked, and then lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Jackson.” He shook his head, sighing. “Uh, she got her nose broken in the sixth grade, trying to stop a fight between her ex-boyfriend and some other dude. She got so pissed off that she punched her ex right back.” His lips twitched. “She said it was right before school picture day, and she had to take her pictures with a black eye and a taped nose.” He paused, and then added, “I can’t really get too much of a read off of her, but I think she’s a chimera. Genetically, at least. I didn’t really get any supernatural vibes off of her.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about that.” Stiles looked intrigued. “Chimera.” He repeated. “Only you.”

Scott shrugged a shoulder, looking amused. “I mean, yeah, you know? I turn into a werewolf, I fall in love with a werewolf hunter. Wolves and foxes don’t get along? My best friend gets possessed by a fox spirit, and I fall for another one. We turn the formerly possessing fox spirit into a chimera? I fall for a genetic chimera.” He tapped at the table, blinking a little. “Am I, like, genetically predisposed to go after things that are probably going to kill me?” He asked, frowning.

“You didn’t pursue asthma.” Stiles teased. “I don’t think Hayden wants you dead, anyway. And the nogitsune, and Kira and I, were never trying to kill you. I mean, Theo sort of was, but not really. It wasn’t ‘I wanna kill Scott,’ so much as ‘I wanna cause chaos.’ He could have killed you. Not trying to be a downer. But he let you live because he wanted to feed on your pain.” 

Scott made a face. “Right. Well… glad I could be of potential use to him.” He snorted, reaching out to clap his hand lightly on Stiles’ shoulder. “It’s whatever. Anyway, I just meant that it seems kinda like my romantic interests are usually… me going after people that I’m probably not supposed to go after, you know?” He glanced at his best friend and grinned. “Although I guess we both have that sorta thing going on, given how often Derek threatened you when we all first met.”

“I didn’t really pursue him until he stopped acting like that.” Stiles pointed out. “And he says he forgot that I was human.” 

“How the heck did he forget that you were human?” Scott asked, frowning deeply. “I mean… like, seriously, how?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged. “But it’s not worth worrying over, since I’m not, now.” 

Scott nodded. “Right.” He looked up when the waitress arrived and smiled a little awkwardly at her. “Oh. Hi, hello.” He glanced at Stiles, grimacing a little. “I haven’t even looked at the menu.” He whispered.

“Neither have I.” Stiles laughed and looked up at the waitress. “Could we just get some waffles and bacon?” 

The waitress laughed. “Absolutely. What kind of waffles?” She flipped open the menu on their table and then turned it to show them the page for breakfast. “We’ve got sweet and savory kinds. My favorite’s the Elvis, but… well, there’s a reason this place is named what it is.” She pointed at the menu item.

Stiles looked at the menu, then picked his up to check the other options. “Actually, instead of a waffle, I would like a whole roasted chicken.” He smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed. “And torrejas.” 

“Oh, those are brilliant!” The waitress exclaimed, beaming at him. She glanced at Scott. “How about you, love? What’ll it be?”

Scott stared at the menu hard, blinking slowly and looking thoughtful. “Can I get the house breakfast, and… uh, those waffles you were talking about? The Elvis? And, uh. Another side of bacon?”

The waitress looked amused. “My, growing boys, the both of you.” She scribbled their orders down onto her notepad, and then looked up. “What did you both want to drink?”

“Champagne.” Stiles grinned. “Both of us. My friend just met the girl of his dreams and they’re going to get married.” 

“She hasn’t said yes yet!” Scott blurted, before his eyes bulged. “I mean…”

The waitress grinned. “That’s adorable. I’ll get your drinks right out, and the food will follow a bit after that. Congratulations, love.” She told Scott, winking at Stiles before she turned to leave.

Stiles looked surprised. “She winked at me.” He looked over at Scott. “That was weird. Anyway, you know you’re going to ask and you know she’s going to say yes. It’s just a matter of time.” 

“Yeah, but I haven’t yet.” Scott murmured. “I mean… I know things with Allison went quickly, but I figured that was a one-off, since she was my first love, and people were trying to kill us? Things are settled now. Mostly. And… I just met Hayden, and I’d really like to, you know… get to know her beyond gaping at her and smiling like a sap everytime she speaks.” He laughed.

“Good luck?” Stiles smiled. “I talk less around Derek now because I’m afraid of saying something that’s going to make him realize he’s making a big mistake. He would disagree, I think, and that’s good. But I don’t know. I want to believe that we’re going to last for years, but I also just recently stopped worshipping Lydia. I feel like - I want him to be happy, even if that’s not with me, but I want him to be happy with me. So shutting up is a solid plan.” 

Scott shook his head. “You shouldn’t shut up around him at all. You never have before.” He pointed out. “I mean, he got to know you because you were a mouthy asshole in the first place, he’s probably been waiting to see when the other shoe was gonna drop, you know? If he’s crazy about you, then he needs to be able to accept all of you. And… he seems pretty crazy about you.” He paused, looking at the table with his brows drawn together. “Besides - I’m not saying that seeing you two being cute as hell and all over each other is a bad thing, but it is kinda weird to see you, you know, not fighting. Or, well, arguing. Part of me wants to poke at you both, like, it’s okay to argue.”

“We don’t have anything to argue about, though.” Stiles shook his head. “A lot of that was probably tension.” 

Scott stared at him in surprise. “Wow. Seriously?” His eyes went distant, and it was clear that he was remembering all past interactions between Derek and Stiles that he had been present for. “... Whoa, dude, that’s insane. The times that I was there with you when you got into it with him were _heavy_.”

“I spent all last summer trying to get him to notice me.” Stiles murmured. “I was around all the time, I did what I could to help look for his betas - when they were his betas, I mean - and that wasn’t just to get his attention, anyway. But when we were talking about going into the bank vault, I got kind of pissed. All that time I spent around him, and you showed up and it was like I didn’t matter. I wanted to punch you.” 

Scott looked wounded. “But… I’m sorry?”

“It’s not your fault.” Stiles grimaced, wishing he hadn’t brought it up at all, but he was sort of glad that he had. “Actually, it happens a lot, when it comes to you.” 

“But not anymore.” Scott pointed out. “I mean, I barely talked to Derek before unless he had information I could use, and now that you two are together, I don’t really talk to him at all. Just… he seems more all about you now than when he was trying to get me to join his pack. You know?”

“No, I don’t just mean Derek. I mean everybody. Lydia freaking ignored me saying hi to her in the hallways, but she made out with you. My dad wouldn’t listen to me, but you said the exact same thing I’d been saying and that was enough of a motivator to get his attention. I mean, I have the pack now, and like - I wasn’t trying to take it from you out of jealousy or anything, but I’m not going to lie, it feels pretty good that people are looking to me for things.” Stiles murmured. 

Scott swallowed roughly. “I’m so sorry, dude.” He said softly. “I can’t… I can’t speak for Derek and Lydia and your dad, I don’t… like, know why they…” He sighed. “But I can at least apologize for my hand in it. Because maybe it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t involved in those situations.”

“But I don’t think it was you, actively trying to do that.” Stiles glanced up when the waitress brought their drinks. “Thank you.” 

Scott smiled at the waitress, the edges of his mouth looking strained. “Yes, thank you.” He nodded.

The waitress nodded. “Be right back with your food.” She murmured, walking away again.

Scott turned back to Stiles. “Maybe I wasn’t actively trying to do it, but… the thing with Lydia, it’s not like I stopped it from happening.” He looked guilt-ridden. “I’m sorry my wolf is an asshole on the full moon.”

“Well, we don’t know how I’m going to react on the full moon.” Stiles smiled softly. “Maybe I’ll set a village on fire.” 

Scott looked up and smiled tentatively. “Think you’ll find a castle? Kidnap a damsel in distress?”

“I think we’d probably better not be in England, where actual royals live, when the full moon hits.” Stiles snorted. 

Scott laughed. “Right. We’ll probably be back in Beacon Hills by then, anyway.” He looked at Stiles. “Where are you thinking you’ll want to spend your shift, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Probably out in the woods, since that makes more sense.” Stiles mused. “I’m kind of enormous. You’ll see.” 

“Has Derek seen you yet?” Scott teased. “Does it make him grumpier that you’re bigger than him?”

“He hasn’t. Peter’s the only one who has.” Stiles cleared his throat and picked up his champagne, suddenly feeling like he needed at least a little alcohol in his system to continue the conversation. 

Scott’s attention was instantly distracted, his eyes locked on the champagne glass in front of him in awe. “That’s still weird as hell.” He blurted, lifting the glass and looking a little gleeful. “That we can drink legally over here, I mean.”

“You’re not thinking about transferring, are you?” Stiles was only half-joking, watching Scott. 

Scott furrowed his brow, but shook his head. “No. It came up earlier, when I was with Hayden. I told her that we were joking about it, but that I didn’t really entertain it, not until I saw her. But she’s going to be coming back to the States after her exchange thingy is over, so… I mean, I want to be with her all the time, but we’re still trying to take it slow, you know? So… me moving to London to be with her might be taking that a little too far.”

“Yeah, but moving here for yourself is something else.” Stiles shrugged. “I’d miss you, though. But I’d probably just fly over.” 

Scott grinned crookedly. “Fly, like… in an airplane, or…” He teased, unable to keep from giggling.

“What do you think I meant?” Stiles smiled back. “I’m going to scare the hell out of this waitress and eat this entire chicken and the dessert I ordered, and then we’ll go wake Derek up and go to the forest.” 

Scott laughed. “If you’re still hungry and I haven’t finished my food, you can eat off my plate.” He promised Stiles. He looked up when the waitress returned with an enormous tray and a foldable stand, promptly unfolding the stand with one hand before setting the tray down on top of it. Scott watched, vibrating in excitement, even as his stomach let out a massive growl.

“Alright, here we go.” The waitress grinned, lifting up the roast chicken and setting it in front of Stiles, before putting his dessert off to the side. “Roast chicken and torrejas for you.” She turned to Scott and settled his plates in front of him. “And a house breakfast and Elvis waffles, with a side of bacon for you. Enjoy, boys.” She smiled and tucked the tray under her arm before grabbing the stand and folding it shut, then walking away.

Scott leaned forward, inhaling the scent of his food. “Oh my _god_ ,” he groaned. “This all smells so good.”

Stiles nodded, picking up his knife and fork. He started carving into the chicken, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching before he leaned down and took a bite directly from the bird. 

Scott was in the process of biting into a piece of sausage, his eyes on Stiles. He looked down at his own food and debated whether or not he was willing to do the same, before shrugging and compromising by eating all of his food by hand.

Stiles laughed. “I almost feel bad for the waitress.” 

“She seemed pretty cool.” Scott laughed. “I bet she’s not gonna care at all, she’s just gonna laugh or something.”

Stiles glanced at the waitress again, his eyes going to her necklace. He shook his head at himself. “I should probably get my stuff to go and get out of here.” 

“You mean get the food to go?” Scott asked, looking confused. He stuffed a strip of bacon into his mouth. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m okay, for now. Jewelry is looking like something I want to grab, though.” Stiles muttered. “I try my best to ignore that impulse and focus on my watch, you know? That’s about it.” His mouth opened and he made a squeaking noise. “Wait. Something I did awhile back makes a lot more sense to me now.” 

Leaning forward, Scott searched Stiles’ face worriedly. “What was it? What did you do?”

“Remember when I bought Lydia like, ten different birthday presents? I couldn’t decide what to get her. Everything was flashy and shiny and I should have seen that as a sign, but nobody thinks ‘shiny tv’ equals ‘holy shit, I'm a dragon.’” 

“That… actually makes a lot of sense in retrospect.” Scott stared at Stiles, befuddled. “So… this could always have been a thing. You’ve always been a dragon. It just… didn’t come out until Theo wasn’t possessing you anymore.”

Stiles smiled. “It explains _a lot_ , doesn’t it?” He took a few more bites of chicken, this time cut into small pieces and put on his plate, and he finished his champagne before he waved the waitress over. “Could we get to-go boxes?” He kept his eyes on her face and refused to let himself look at her necklace again. 

“Of course. Is everything alright?” The waitress asked, looking between them both in concern. 

Scott smiled kindly at her. “Everything’s fine, we just realized that we have an appointment to get ready for. But we really don’t want to leave the food behind.”

The waitress snorted. “Understood. I’ll be back with your boxes pronto.” She walked away. 

“That was good.” Stiles smiled. “Thanks. I was worried that I would grab the thing and hiss at her.” He laughed. 

Scott beamed at him. “Hey, I’ve got your back. Now that I know what it looks like, I can stop any major events when I see that look in your eyes.”

“We need to make sure we end up in the same college.” Stiles muttered. “So that you can help defuse the situation if I try to kidnap a princess or something.” 

“I was just joking about that, Stiles, I don’t think you’d really do that.” Scott murmured, glancing up and thanking the waitress as she arrived with to-go boxes. He turned his attention back to his best friend as he started to scoop his food into the box. “But I want to try and go to the same college, regardless. If we don’t get in together, though, what do we do?”

“Try to get into colleges near each other.” Stiles carved up the rest of the chicken, putting the meat into his to-go box. “I don’t know what I want to do yet, and you do. So we’ll figure out where you’re going to apply, and then I’ll just apply to the same schools and ones near those.” He shrugged. “I mean, I know I want to be a cop. But I want a degree in something first. I just don’t know what that is. It’s not like they offer ‘history of therianthropes’ anywhere.”

“No, but they do have degrees in folklore.” Scott pointed out, setting his empty plate to the side. And… I mean, it’s not the same thing, but a lot of folklore deals with the whole ‘I’m a human and an animal’ thing.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Stiles nodded. “I’ll start looking things up as soon as we get back to the hotel. Let’s face it, I’m not going to be able to wait until we get home.” 

“I know you won’t.” Scott laughed. “Maybe you can look stuff up on our way to the forest or wherever? I don’t know what forest or how far it is from London, but… it can’t hurt to occupy that time, right?”

“Right.” Stiles used another box for his dessert. He got up from the table to pay for their meal, then reminded himself again that getting a job when he got back to Beacon Hills wasn’t an option, it was definitely necessary. 

Scott had all of the containers in his hands, standing at the ready by the door for Stiles. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, opening the door for Scott. “Do you know yet, where it is that you want to apply? That would help me figure out some things.” 

Scott shook his head. “No, not yet. I know I wanted to stay behind in - well, not in Beacon Hills, but the community college near there? Just for, like, a year, and then I’d transfer to a university. I was looking around at top veterinary schools, and like, the top one in the country is actually UC Davis. But Tufts University in Boston has a great program, too.”

“And Tufts would keep you closer to the pack members already out there.” Stiles grinned. “So it looks like I'd better get used to the idea of Boston.” 

Scott laughed. “Maybe. I’m still looking, though, so… you know, I’m keeping my mind open and stuff.”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to go to New York.” Stiles admitted. “Stay out there, take classes somewhere like NYU, and go to Mets games.” 

“If we do end up in Boston, we could take a train into New York on weekends.” Scott suggested. “That’d be kinda fun.”

“Museums, too.” Stiles grinned. “And libraries. I can drag Derek to a few of those, he’ll love that.” 

“Derek likes libraries?” Scott asked. “I mean, outside of needing to be there to do research or whatever?”

“He’s my one and only, Scott.” Stiles murmured. “Liking libraries is part of the deal, there. And the human heart. As a shape, I mean. Not like, dinner time.” 

“He likes the shape of a human heart?” Scott blurted, looking bewildered. “Why?”

“I wanted something that wouldn’t be obvious.” Stiles explained. “Lots of people like the library and the forest. I had to come up with something to set my person apart, you know?” 

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” Scott nodded. He looked around, noticing for the first time that they’d been walking for so long that they were almost back at the hotel. “Well… I mean, at least it sets Derek apart and lets you know for real that he’s your guy.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “So it’s probably not exactly a good thing that I haven’t asked him about any of that, right?” He glanced over at Scott. “I’m kind of terrified. What if it turns out that it’s not him?” 

Scott’s eyes softened. “Aw, man.” He murmured, and juggled the boxes in his arms until he could put a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “If it’s not him, then you still have a really good, really awesome boyfriend that really cares about you. And you’ll have someone else in the future that’ll be all of that and more.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to ask.” Stiles blurted. “I’d like to live in plausible deniability.” 

Scott frowned a little. “But… what’s going to happen if you find out that Derek’s favorite shape isn’t a real heart?” He asked uncertainly.

“Then I guess mine’s gonna break.” Stiles muttered, shrugging. “What do you want me to say, Scott? Am I supposed to just go up and ask him right now, and if he says something else, then - what? Do I break up with him and hurt him?” 

Scott shook his head. “No, man. Just… no. I mean, if I had broken up with Allison any of the times you told me that it was detrimental to my health because her family would kill me… Well, it’s not like I listened. And if I ever told you to break up with Derek because I said so, or because you aren’t each other’s end game, or something, I’d fully expect you to slug me right in the gut. I’m just concerned about you. I don’t want you to get hurt if - and it’s a huge if, okay? - it turns out that you aren’t meant for each other.”

“Yeah.” Stiles sighed. He pushed the button for the elevator, but his mood had soured. “Okay, if I'm going to ask him, I’m going to wait until we get back.”

Scott nodded, looking guilty. “Okay. Hey - I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to wreck your mood and I did.”

“No, you’re right.” Stiles smiled softly. “It would be worse to drag this out longer, if he has a chance of being with someone else. If I’m not the one he should be with. He and I are both unwilling to let go of people, and I don’t want to be sixty and sitting beside him on our porch, watching our grandkids, when I find out that he’s not even mine.” 

“But at least you would have had all of that time together.” Scott pointed out, smiling softly. “I mean, seriously, if you make it to sixty with each other, I don’t think it would matter at that point, if he belongs with someone else, and if you do, too. Would it?”

“Well, no, but think about it like this.” Stiles sighed. “If you didn’t come here, if you were still with Allison or Kira, and you didn’t ever meet Hayden, wouldn’t you feel like you cheated yourself out of something amazing?” 

Scott rubbed his chin. “But I wouldn’t have even known about Hayden if I were still with Allison or Kira. I would never have done the spell, so I wouldn’t really have been aware that there was someone that specific waiting for me, you know? I don’t know, I just… I’m glad I have her now, I’m so glad I know her, but you know what I’m like when I’m in a relationship. I get tunnel-vision, almost. It’s like I can’t see anything but her. If I were still with Ally, it never would’ve crossed my mind that I could have had Hayden waiting for me.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, fair point. I just feel now, like if I don’t ask, I’ll drive myself insane. But if I do, and he’s not, I’ll hate myself a little bit. Or a lot.” 

“Then… okay. How about this?” Scott turned to face Stiles. “If you ask, and everything is okay, obviously you won’t need to worry, but if it turns out that you ask, and he isn’t really yours… well. Stay with him anyway. At least until either of you finds your person, or your person finds you, you know what I mean? It doesn’t have to be friends with benefits or anything like that - you guys were getting to be really close even before you started seeing each other. And there’s no reason that you have to be lonely, waiting by yourself until you find who you’re supposed to be with, either of you, you know?” He shrugged. “It’s just a suggestion.”

“It’s a good one.” Stiles pushed the button for the elevator again. “I’ll talk to him today, then. Just to get that over with.” When the elevator doors opened, he got in and tried to think of what he was going to say to Derek. His stomach hurt, just at the mere idea that Derek wouldn’t be the person for him. 

Scott set the food down on the floor of the elevator as soon as he was inside, then tackled Stiles, much in the same way Stiles had tackled him following his break-up with Kira. He hugged Stiles tightly, resting his head on the other teen’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s all going to be alright. Just because Derek might not be the grand love of your life doesn’t mean that anything you had together was any less real, or that either of you cared less about the other. Things were changing for both of you way before you even did your spell, man. And… even if things don’t end up the way you hoped they would, you’ve still got Derek in your corner. For, like, _life_. That’s not something a lot of people can say, you know?”

Stiles nodded, hugging Scott. “I know, I’m pretty lucky. My dad says that his friends from high school don’t talk to him anymore. You’re not allowed to ditch me.” He laughed. “I won’t let you. I don’t care if I have to follow you from one college to another, you can’t get away from me. And neither can Derek. Or Lydia, or Jackson. Which is weird, because it’s Jackson. But he’s as much a part of this pack as I am.” 

Scott laughed softly, giving Stiles another squeeze before letting go of him. “I wouldn’t ditch you, anyway.” He murmured. “And… with any luck, we’ll just end up at the same college anyway. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll transfer. Or you’ll transfer. Whatever.”

“I’ll transfer.” Stiles agreed. “Because you’re getting into a college with a vet program. I don’t care if I have to major in basket-weaving, after that.” He bent to pick up the containers of food, getting off the elevator when the doors opened and going down the hall to their room. He unlocked the door and called out to his boyfriend. “Derek, are you awake yet?” 

There was a low, ‘mmrr?’ from the direction of the bedroom. A minute later, Derek shuffled out, bleary-eyed but delighted. He moved toward Stiles immediately, barely stopping to give Scott a nod of acknowledgement, and promptly stuck his face in Stiles’ neck, inhaling happily. “Hi.” He murmured.

“Hey.” Stiles put an arm around Derek’s waist, setting the boxes aside. “This sucks for me, a little bit, but I think we need to talk?” He waved a hand at Scott, telling his best friend to go into the other room and give them some privacy. “But it isn’t necessarily bad. No, I mean, it’s not bad at all. It’s just, you know, getting things out of the way. That’s all.” 

“Okay.” Derek said softly, pulling back to stare at his boyfriend. He glanced around, making sure that Scott had left - he caught a glimpse of blue jeans and a gray hoodie disappearing through Scott’s bedroom door - and then took Stiles’ hand, leading him to the couch to sit. “I… think I might know what this is about, but… I don’t want to…” He exhaled deeply. “What do we need to talk about?”

“I - I mean, Scott says that I should do the right thing here, and he’s not wrong.” Stiles sat down. “I’m just going to ask you a few things, and if your answers aren’t what I expect, that doesn’t mean we have to break up. I like you. I know you like me. I just think that we owe it to ourselves to not assume anything, and then that way, if you meet someone, or if I do... I'm getting ahead of myself. You’re my person. You have to be my person.” 

Derek breathed out again slowly, reaching a hand up to cup Stiles’ cheek. “I’m yours.” He said softly, nodding. “I am. I know I am.” His stomach swooped. “Ask me.”

“What’s your favorite shape?” Stiles reached for Derek’s free hand. 

Derek took Stiles’ hand in his own, holding on tightly - more tightly than he would have, had Stiles still been human - and he pressed his lips to his boyfriend’s knuckles. He thought silently for a moment, and then said, “The Elven star.” Part of his heart sank - he didn’t think that was the answer Stiles had been looking for.

Stiles took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s not... that’s not what I expected. But it’s also exactly what I expected. I like to prepare myself for every possible outcome, no matter what the situation is. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I meet this other person. I kind of hope you meet yours, first. I know you haven’t done a spell like I did, but I don’t think that matters. It’s going to hurt, when things...” He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about this, all right? I like being in denial. It’s safer. We’ll go to Sherwood Forest with Scott and Jackson and Theo, and we’ll spend the rest of the week here, and then we’ll go back to California and we won’t ever talk about this.” 

Derek cringed, but nodded slowly. A second later, he drew Stiles firmly against his chest, pressing his face to the side of Stiles’ head and breathing in quietly as he shut his eyes. His fingers lightly stroked Stiles’ back soothingly. “I want to stay with you.” He said softly. “Whatever happens will happen, but… I want to stay with you.”

“I want to stay with you, too.” Stiles put his head down on Derek’s shoulder. “I can’t help wondering if I was destined to do this, or if I screwed myself over. But it doesn’t matter. Right now, and for as long as we can keep it like this, it’s just you and me.”


	12. The Drawback

Lydia sat on the couch in Derek’s apartment, eyeing Stiles as he kissed Derek. She turned her head to look at Allison, then sent her a text message. ‘Should I say something? It’s been weeks and I’m worried that they’ll get married if I don’t intervene, and that would be worse for both of them.’

Allison smiled at the text crookedly, glancing at Lydia before she responded. ‘I say let them be. They look happy together. That’s what matters right now, isn’t it?’

Lydia frowned as she read the reply from Allison. ‘I hate the idea of people keeping me in the dark. I can’t just let someone else stay there.’ 

Allison chewed on her lower lip, frowning as well. ‘But… you know how Stiles views Peter. If you say something to him about the threads you saw between them…’ She trailed off, grimacing. She wasn’t a big fan of Peter, either, and she worried about what Stiles’ reaction could be, especially when he was clearly so over the moon over Derek.

‘It’s not as though I’m happy about this.’ Lydia tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling before she sent a message to Erica. ‘I’m telling Stiles and Derek that they’re not connected.’ 

Stiles laughed as he looked over at the three female betas. “In case you think you’re being clever, you’re not. I know you’re having a conversation that you don’t want anyone to hear. What’s going on? Is it bad?” 

“Yes.” Lydia blurted. “Sort of. No, definitely.” 

Derek raised his eyes to look at them curiously, his arm solidly around Stiles’ waist. “Go ahead and tell us what it is.” He encouraged her. “Whatever it is, it can’t be too terrible.”

“I hope you still think so in a minute.” Lydia said softly. “The two of you aren’t supposed to be together. I’ve seen-” 

“Stop.” Stiles held his hand up and shook his head at her. “I don’t want to know. Derek and I already talked it over and we figured out that he doesn’t match what I said I want in a person. We don’t care. We’re in this until we’re not, and that’s it.” 

“Yes. We know.” Derek nodded, looking a little sad, but agreeable. “Thank you, though, Lydia.” He gave her a small, resigned grin. 

Allison looked distraught. “So… you know you aren’t it for each other, but you’re going to stay together anyway?”

Derek hugged Stiles a little tighter, then glanced at him seriously. “I chose him. Maybe he isn’t my forever, but… I chose him. And that’s important, too.”

Stiles grinned. “And I’m staying with Derek because I can, and I’m happy about that. Whatever happens later on, we’ll deal with it together.” 

Lydia had to fight the urge to tell them that they were idiots, but she managed it by drinking her tea, instead. “This is my final semester of high school. I want to know what happens to my status in the pack, after that.” 

“Scott and I are going to try to go to college in Boston.” Stiles murmured. “I was going to wait to have that conversation, but we should do it now. I’m hoping to still be your alpha, even when we’re possibly all split up around the country. But we can still get together for holidays.” 

Erica leaned back in her seat, frowning. “So… if you’re leaving Beacon Hills for college… I mean, wait. Some of us aren’t going to be leaving town. Like, I’m not planning to. But if you’re going to Boston and so is Scott, there isn’t going to be an Alpha here to take care of the town. Who’s going to take charge?”

“I think my dad can handle it.” Stiles smiled. “And any betas here who need to take care of certain situations can do that. I’ll come back when I can, anyway. If I do it right, I can have Fridays off from classes and use that as a travel day or something.” 

“Or we could take turns coming back here.” Lydia suggested. “I’ll only be gone for two years after you guys graduate. I could come back here right after that and handle whatever I need to.” 

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “You _are_ Stiles’ second-in-command.” He mused, propping his chin lightly on Stiles’ shoulder before glancing at his boyfriend. “That would make the most sense while you’re gone.”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed. He glanced at Lydia, then turned his head to kiss Derek. “If you’re still here, though? It would be your decision, whatever happens.” 

Derek blinked in surprise. “Me?” He asked, even as he kissed Stiles back. “Really?”

“I know that I said it before, that your decision-making wasn’t the best.” Stiles said bluntly. “But I figure you’ll make the kind of decisions I would. If you have any doubts, I'm a phone call away.” 

“You’re probably going to be getting a lot of phone calls, in that case.” Derek teased him, his lips twitching. He leaned in, dropping a light kiss to the back of Stiles’ jaw. “Thank you.”

Stiles grinned. “You’re welcome.” He stopped himself from telling Derek that he loved him, even though he felt like saying it, from time to time. It was still early in their relationship and he kept their reality in place like a brick wall, so that he wouldn’t get carried away. Even so, the plan was still in place for him to talk to Derek about kids, one day. He wasn’t going to get rid of that, and he might even leave it on his calendar after he met his true love. A good person would understand. 

Derek huffed out a soft laugh, nuzzling Stiles’ shoulder fondly.

“You two disgust me and I hate that I’m so jealous I could die.” Allison sighed. “But I won’t because I have to be alive this summer to meet my OTL.”

Erica snorted out a laugh. “I’m so freaking glad I’m with Boyd.” She murmured.

“I’m glad, too.” Boyd grinned at Erica. “We should probably talk about college, but it can wait until we’re alone.” He looked at Stiles. “No offense, I just think the only person whose plans matter to me, in that regard, is her.” 

Stiles nodded in understanding. “It’s not the same thing, but Scott’s plans influence my plans.” 

“Stiles’ plans usually influence my plans.” Scott added, smiling crookedly. “Talk about codependence.”

“Codependency.” Lydia corrected idly. 

“Are you going to do that every time?” Stiles laughed. 

“Are you ever going to use proper grammar?” Lydia smiled. “Because if you do, then I wouldn’t have to correct you.” 

“It would screw up your worldview if I majored in English, wouldn't it?” Stiles laced his fingers with Derek’s as he spoke. “Or if I became a teacher. I have no set plan. I’m just going to end up either in the same school as Scott, or one close to him. I’ll figure out a major after I get acceptance letters that match his.” 

“College isn’t about the buddy system!” Lydia protested. “You’re limiting yourself.” 

“Maybe, maybe not. Having someone you already know in a space that you’re not familiar with, especially one that’s as stressful as a college campus, can only be beneficial. A familiar face makes it easier to thrive.” Derek murmured.

Erica glanced at him, curling into Boyd’s side. “You talking from experience, big guy?”

Derek blinked, clearing his throat. “Ah.”

Stiles sat up, looking at Derek before he turned to Erica. “Let’s not get into that.” He said quickly. “Let’s do this, instead.” He got up, grabbing sheets of paper out of his backpack and handing them to everyone. “Since we only have one more semester before Lydia’s gone, and because I’m trying to be a good alpha, I made a schedule. If you don’t like it, I can rearrange it. But on Mondays, it’s going to be Scott, Lydia and Allison. Tuesdays are for Erica, Boyd and Isaac. Wednesdays are for whatever the hell I want. Thursday is Derek’s day. Friday is still pack night, and Saturday is for Jackson, Theo and Danny. On Skype. And then Sunday is for whatever the hell I want, again.” He looked around at the betas. “And that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to spend time with each other, those are just my designated days.” 

“Are you going to schedule bathroom breaks, too?” Boyd smirked. 

“I could, if I have to.” Stiles shook his head at Boyd, giving him a warning look. “Don’t tempt me.” 

Erica grinned, patting Boyd’s shoulder. “He’ll really do it, babe.” She nodded. “And it won’t be pretty.”

Allison leaned forward as she peered at the schedule in her hands, smiling softly. “This is kind of unbearably sweet.” She told him. “I like this.”

Stiles smiled at Allison. “Thanks.” He sat back down beside Derek. “I’m already kind of planning on getting you guys to give me your college schedules and checking your calendars, so we can coordinate when we can meet. I know it’s extreme and I seem like I’m micro-managing, but for so long, it was just me and Scott. You guys know that. I just feel like, suddenly there’s so many more people and I don’t want to lose any of you. So we’re going to start coordinating things. I'm getting a map of the United States and putting it in my room, so we can figure out where we’re applying and who gets in where, and who can live with whoever else. Jackson’s already looking at houses in Boston, and I guess it’s going to be him and Theo, and you,” he gestured to Lydia, “And Danny. He’s going to MIT, too. That’s why he’s hardly ever around. He’s working and trying to graduate this year. So it might mean a crowded house if we all manage to get into colleges in the area, but I’d actually kind of prefer that.” 

“Is Jackson, like, buying the house?” Isaac asked, looking confused. “I mean, he’s going to outright buy it just for the hell of it, even if he’s not going to be staying in Boston?”

Erica waved him off. “I don’t care about that, I’m not going to be living in that house. I didn’t know Danny was trying to graduate this year, but it’s not like he and I are best friends or anything.” She shrugged. “Anyway. I’m not planning on going to college. I’d rather find a job and figure out what I want to do there. But as soon as that happens, I’m totally giving you my schedule.” She nodded firmly.

Allison laughed softly. “Oh, you know I’ll be sending you my schedule, too. I’m not going to let a minute pass without seeing you guys. I won’t take a chance to miss you during a visit, any of you. I don’t even really know where I’m going to end up in regards to college, but I’ll figure it out, and I’ll definitely communicate.”

“I’m glad you’re staying.” Boyd said suddenly, looking at Erica. “I can’t afford it. I would have tried hard for a scholarship, but I think I just want to stay here and keep working at the rink. I can take online classes anywhere, if I feel like it later.” 

“We’re going to have to figure out how to make sure Hayden feels welcome, when she comes here. And we’ll have to tell her about werewolves. Unless Scott does that for us.” Stiles smiled at his best friend. 

**

By March, Stiles was able to fly to Mexico and back without getting tired. He was working on trying to convince his betas to trust him enough to go for a ride around the Preserve, but he knew they needed to work up to it. Which was why he had alpha-shifted in the middle of the woods, on Allison’s eighteenth birthday. He had a few other tricks, too. He demonstrated one by starting a bonfire and smiling with all of his teeth at the pack before he took a few steps backward, in an effort to give them space. 

Allison giggled, clapping her hands and looking more than a little delighted and amazed. She stared up at Stiles in awe. “That was so cool. Can I touch you? Are you leathery? Don’t bite my hand off or set me on fire. You just look insanely amazing.”

Stiles took a step closer to Allison and lowered his head, toward her. 

“Show off.” Lydia teased, looking up at Stiles. 

“Oh my god.” Allison breathed, an expression not unlike a kid in a candy shop on her face as she reached a hand up to touch Stiles’ snout. She let out a squeak, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “This is so _cool_!” She repeated in a hushed voice. “Lydia, no offense - this is the best birthday present ever.”

Lydia laughed. “He’s probably only doing this now because he didn’t know what to get you. He’s not a present.” 

Stiles snorted at Lydia and turned his head to look at Derek. 

“Whoa, what the hell?” A younger teen stared at Stiles, awestruck as he moved closer. “ _Intense_! Dragons are real?” 

“What are you doing, get back!” Another teen blurted, grabbing frantically at the first teen’s arm. 

Allison looked back at Stiles in a panic.

Derek ran his hands gently over Stiles’ face and then nodded once. “Wait a second. We’ll fix this.”

Stiles nodded back at Derek. 

Lydia walked around Stiles, over to the two boys. “If either of you say one word about this, I’ll let my dragon eat you.” She warned them. “So get out of here and pretend you never saw anything.” 

“Isn’t he just a giant lizard, though?” The first boy looked up at Stiles in wonder. 

“He’s a dragon. They eat meat.” Lydia said sharply. “And he’ll turn you into his next barbecued meal if you don’t leave right now.” 

“If he really wanted to kill us, wouldn’t he have already done it?” The inquisitive teen looked from Stiles to Lydia. “Or are you his tamer or something?” 

Stiles turned his head to bare his teeth at Lydia. He didn’t want to transform in front of the nosy kid and his friend, and he didn’t have enough space to fly away. He didn’t want her to keep talking to them and answering questions, he wanted her to make them go away. 

“If I promise not to ever tell anybody else about this, can I touch him? I’m Mason and this is Liam, and we were just going for a walk and got lost, and it turns out that it was the best thing, ever.” Mason grinned up at Stiles. “Will he really try to eat me?” 

“At this point, _I’ll_ eat you.” Boyd said dryly. He looked up at Stiles. “He talks more than you do.” 

“Dragons don’t talk.” Mason blinked, looking around at the crowd. He recognized some people, but he didn’t have classes with any of them. 

It was clear that they were never getting Mason to shut up and go away. Stiles rolled his eyes and shifted back to his human form, cupping his hands over his penis to cover himself. “That’s seriously your argument?” He demanded. “Not that I shouldn’t exist, but that it’s fine that I exist, so long as I don’t _talk_?” 

“Awesome.” Mason stared, wide-eyed. His gaze started to drift lower, down Stiles’ body. 

“Hey, I don’t think so.” Stiles snapped. “Would you two knuckleheads turn around, so I can get dressed?” 

The second boy - Liam - whipped around at once, his cheeks burning red and his head ducked low so that he couldn’t see Stiles at all. 

A low growl escaped Derek’s chest, and he moved protectively around Stiles, blocking the other boy’s view of his boyfriend. “Listen. I think it’s great that you’re… appreciative. But you need to turn around and take your eyes off of him, or they’re going to be plucked out and shoved somewhere inherently unpleasant. Got it?”

Erica hopped down from the tree branch she’d been sitting in at that, and stared hard at the two boys, giving them both a sharp, evil smile. “He’ll have help, just FYI.”

Liam whimpered and put his hands over his head, as if that would make him more invisible to the rest of the group. 

Mason turned around, glancing over at Liam. “This is the best day of my life. Dragons are real!”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he pulled his jeans on. “You’re not saying anything to anyone about this. Neither of you can. Ever.”

“I swear on my life!” Mason blurted. “But I have so many questions. Are you a human who can turn into a dragon, or a dragon who can turn into a human?”

“I’m -“ Stiles hesitated, looking at Scott as he remembered their conversation in London and his realization that he had always displayed dragon behavior. “Neither.” He put his shirt on. “You can turn back around, now.” He smirked when Mason faced him again and seemed to deflate a little, now that he was clothed. “Kid, I have a boyfriend.” He pointed at Derek. 

Mason kept his gaze on Stiles as he grabbed Liam’s shirt, yanking his best friend toward him. “ _Gay dragon._ ” He whispered hoarsely, awestruck. 

Liam flailed a little, smacking at Mason’s hands. “Dude, let go, they could all totally kill us!” He whispered, looking panicked. 

“Bisexual.” Stiles corrected, smiling faintly at Liam’s reaction. He glanced around at the betas surrounding him, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, Peter’s insistence that Stiles not bring the supernatural community into the public eye made a lot more sense. “I should probably kill you both.” He said casually. “Just to make sure you really can’t ever tell anyone about this. But I’m not going to. As long as you say nothing.”

Liam had made a dying sound in his throat the minute Stiles spoke, and then rapidly bobbed his head up and down. “Say what? I won’t say anything, I didn’t see anything, there’s nothing to say because I saw nothing!”

Mason drew an ‘x’ in the air, over his heart. “I promise. I swear. I told you I would be quiet.”

“Not so much.” Lydia smiled tensely. 

Stiles put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “Is he... I mean, he’s not...” He already felt rattled by being seen in his alpha form without his permission, but Mason crossing his heart, there in the forest, had him anxious. The younger teen hadn’t even tried to hide his attraction, or the thirst for knowledge that only a library full of research material could sate. 

Lydia shook her head slowly. “I would tell you. It was just coincidental.” She smirked a moment later. “You’d never get anywhere. Either of you. It would be like _Waiting for Godot_. If it was some sort of abstract, indie porn.”

Stiles scowled. He looked at Liam and Mason again. “Allison, are you okay with party-crashers?”

Allison made a face. “Well, they’re already here, so I guess I don’t mind.” She narrowed her eyes at the two younger teens, suddenly looking every bit the hunter that she was. “Next time, wait for an invitation or I’ll make special arrowheads with your names on them. And they’ll be the barbed kind. Which means they’ll hurt.”

“Holy shit.” Mason blurted. “Okay.” He looked around, dazed. “Seriously, who are you guys? You’re so cool. This is amazing.”

“I’m Stiles.” Stiles began, then introduced the other pack members as he pointed them out. “Do you want a hot dog or a burger?”

“Is that a test?” Mason looked confused. 

“It’s food.” Boyd laughed. “Relax. Unless you try to attack any of us, nobody is actually going to hurt you. It’s Allison’s birthday and she wanted to see what he looked like.” He nodded toward Stiles. 

“I’ll have a cheeseburger.” Mason murmured. “Sorry!” He called out to Stiles. “I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything. It’s just, you know, you’re a dragon and then you were naked and I have eyes. You’re not really my type.”

Liam’s stomach growled at the mention of food. He glanced around at the others warily, looking uncertain as he spoke up. “Um… could I have both?”

“No, you have to choose.” Erica told him, looking dead serious. She nodded her head firmly. “Seriously, you have to pick what you really want, none of this wishy-washy ‘I want both’ shit.”

Liam stared at her, looking bewildered. “But - what, really?”

“Yes, really,” Erica insisted. 

Derek sighed. “No. Not really. Erica, knock it off.”

“Fun killer.” Erica muttered under her breath. 

Allison snorted and looked at Liam. “Have whatever you want, and as many of it as you like. We had to get enough to feed a dragon, after all.” Her eyes sparkled gleefully as she looked happily at Stiles. 

Stiles smiled back at Allison. “I told you that I’d be fine with a couple of roasted chickens. You’re the ones who decided to get twenty-five pounds of hamburger meat.” 

“Well, the rest of us want to eat, too.” Lydia sat down on a folding chair and looked up at Mason and Liam. “You might as well get comfortable, since Stiles has practically adopted the two of you. If he didn’t want you here, you would know.” 

“Really?” Liam asked uncertainly. “That’s - I mean, that’s really cool. Thanks for - uh, letting us eat with you.”

“Don’t thank us just yet.” Stiles smiled. “We’re going to be your shadows for a long time, making sure you don’t say anything about what you saw today. You’ll be eating lunch with us at school for the foreseeable future.” 

Liam glanced at Mason, and then asked carefully, “How long is the foreseeable future?”

“Well, most of us are juniors right now, so the rest of this year and all of next.” Stiles shrugged. “And then, when we’re gone, other people will keep an eye on you.” 

“Um. Can I, maybe, _not_ be part of the foreseeable future?” Liam asked Stiles hopefully, looking a little scared. 

“Hold on.” Mason protested, looking at Liam. “This is a good thing. We’ll be hanging out with seniors when we’re sophomores.” 

Liam froze, blinking. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

Derek and Scott both let out quiet snorts of laughter, Derek hiding his face in Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek. “It’s only going to last as long as you say nothing.” He repeated. “I’m not a fan of getting my hands dirty, but it doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“Like I said, we’re not telling anybody a thing.” Mason looked over at Allison. “Happy birthday, by the way.” 

Liam jerked around to look at her. “Oh! Right! Happy birthday!” He echoed. 

Allison laughed. “Thank you. It’s been a really great one so far.” She threw her arms around Lydia, hugging her best friend happily. 

Lydia smiled. “So, what are you guys doing tomorrow?” She asked Liam and Mason. “Stiles has the day to himself, and the rest of us will find something to do.” 

“I don’t think we really had any plans?” Liam replied, reaching for a burger and dousing it in hot sauce and relish. He took a big bite and started to reply again before remembering to chew and swallow. “Uh. What did you all have planned?”

“Shopping.” Lydia murmured. “A couple of us are graduating early and we need to buy things for our house in Boston. We don’t have it yet, but it’s being finalized next week.” 

“That soon?” Erica asked, looking intrigued. “What did Jackson do, pay the realtor in gold bricks to speed the process up?”

“Not really.” Lydia shook her head. “We decided on this three months ago, so it was just a matter of finding a house that met our standards. It doesn’t hurt that we have the same taste in a lot of things.” 

“That’s always handy.” Isaac commented, grinning crookedly at her. 

“There were high points and low points to my relationship with him, yes.” Lydia nodded, laughing. “The house has five bedrooms and at least three bathrooms, and I won’t even have to paint the room I want. It’s already the perfect color.” 

“That sounds wonderful.” Allison laughed, nudging her. “So basically, your relationship at least gave him a measure of your taste. Thank god.”

Lydia grinned. “When I met Jackson, he was wearing jeans and t-shirts. He was popular, but he needed a little fashion guidance.” 

“And common sense guidance.” Scott added. 

“And guidance in how to be less of a jackass.” Derek muttered. 

“Also known as common sense guidance.” Stiles teased. “So it was good that he had Lydia around.” 

“Thank you.” Lydia grinned. “Don’t fall apart without me around.” 

Derek looked amused, wrapping his arm around Stiles and kissing him. “We’ve got him. But… stand by on Skype, just in case.”

Mason felt himself relaxing more when he saw Derek and Stiles kiss. He had heard Stiles say that he was bisexual and dating Derek, but their display of affection was reassuring to Mason because he knew he wouldn't have to hide anything about himself. He looked over at his best friend again, smiling. “Definitely a good day.” He murmured. 

Liam looked amused. “Yeah, I bet you think so.” He teased. “I bet it really helps that they both look like they stepped out of a magazine ad, too.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Mason grinned. 

**

Stiles woke up on Sunday morning, just before noon. He rubbed his eyes as he went looking for his dad. He had given thought to graduating early with Lydia and Danny, but he wanted to stay in Beacon Hills for another year, to be around for his dad and the pack. He had spent the past couple of months writing a lot of different potential essays for his college applications. When the time came to actually submit something, he would just edit what he already had and mail it off. 

John was sitting at his desk, his glasses doing nothing to detract from the bleary look in his eyes as he studied paperwork in front of him. He started to yawn, then looked up and spotted Stiles, at which point he stifled it. “Hey, kiddo. How’re you doing?”

“I’m good.” Stiles nodded. “I kind of got outed yesterday, to a couple of people from school. For the dragon thing. But I’m handling it as best as I can.” He paused. “I may have threatened to kill them if they talk.” 

John blinked at him. “Well, as long as you’re careful, just in case they do screw up and talk.” He grinned crookedly. “I’ll make Parrish deal with it if it happens. So what happened? They crash Allison’s party?”

“Yeah, but not on purpose.” Stiles admitted. “They were walking around in the woods and saw me, and I didn’t want to shift and let them know who I was, but one of them wouldn’t shut up at all. If you say ‘karma,’ I’ll never let you have bacon again.” 

John breathed in deeply and promptly released a laugh. “I won’t say a word. Well, that was a lie because I just said several of them in a row, but I won’t say that… other word.” He raised a hand and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder gently. “You learn anything new while you’re in giant flying reptile mode?”

“Not really. I only did it because Allison turned eighteen and she hadn’t seen me like that, yet. Most of the pack hadn’t. So now they have, and so did the other guys, who are actually thrilled to be having lunch with a bunch of juniors. They’re freshmen.” Stiles sat down. “I’m still not sure what the hell I’m going to major in, and I only have a few months to figure that out and start sending off applications.” 

John patted around on the table, furrowing his brow before he pushed a plate toward Stiles with a breakfast sandwich on it. “Eat that, will you? I literally only nibbled on a corner, I haven’t had time for anything else. Weren’t you interested in law enforcement?” He asked, tilting his head. “You don’t have to go to school immediately, you know? If you think it might be better to take some time off first, have some more time to figure out what you want to do, that’s okay.” He pushed his paperwork away, focusing all of his attention on his son. “Where were you thinking of applying, and what’s everything you’re interested in majoring in?”

“I wanted to major in law enforcement.” Stiles agreed. “But now that I’m in charge of the pack, I feel like I’ll have enough to deal with. I mean, it could still happen, but I just want a bachelor’s, first. Erica and Boyd aren’t going to college, or at least not going away for college. Lydia and Danny are leaving in June, to meet up with Jackson and Theo. They’re going to MIT and Harvard. So that’s happening. And I figured it would be easier on all of us if we all went to Boston schools, then. But I kind of don’t want to.” He shook his head, sighing. “I’ll still apply, but I really would rather be in New York. It all depends on where I can get in. Actually, it’s less about where I get in and more about where Scott does, because the real plan is that he’ll decide on a school for veterinary medicine and I’ll just figure out my major later on. Lydia thinks I’m making a mistake, but she finally quit badgering me about it.” 

John huffed softly, smiling. “If your options hinge on Scott’s options, what are Scott’s options, then?” He asked curiously. “I know, veterinary medicine, but was Scott planning to go to Boston? Is he dead set on it if he was? What other schools has he looked at?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe New York has some really good vet programs he can join.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Stiles sighed. “I’ll have to tell him, tomorrow. All of them. Or maybe not? I mean, I’m still applying everywhere, so it doesn’t matter until I see my acceptance letters.” 

“After that, it’s just a matter of what your final choice is.” John agreed. “You’ll be able to go on visits, so when you apply, see what your top five choices are between you and Scott, and see about planning out visits to the campus. The tours will let you get an idea of what life there will be like, and then once you’ve got all the information you need about campus life and your courses, maybe it’ll help you decide.”

Stiles smiled. “I think I’m going to end up doing that during Spring Break, then. So I don’t disrupt my classes more than I already have, this year. It just feels like it’s going so fast now, you know? It might have something to do with the fact that nothing has tried to kill us in months.” He immediately knocked on the wooden table. The last thing he needed was to jinx himself.

John smiled faintly. “That makes sense. And it does go fast. I was seventeen when I decided I was going to go to the Army instead of college, and the time leading up to that… it was like someone hit fast-forward times eight on the remote. It went by so damn fast that before I knew it, I was graduating and shipping off to boot camp, and it was like I had just started my senior year the day before that.”

“I kind of hope that it doesn’t go that fast, for me.” Stiles admitted. “There’s so much we still have to do. Lydia’s going to Prom, whether she wants to or not, since she’s graduating. I’m going to make her go.” He laughed. “And then I’ll probably spend this summer trying to get to know Hayden, since that’s a big deal to Scott. I might get a job, too. It’s about time I did that. I was going to, back in January. But there were shopping trips with Lydia and helping Scott with homework, and celebrating Valentine’s Day with Derek. Which was awesome, but kind of weird? It’s just... it feels like it’s supposed to hurt more than this, knowing that some of my betas won’t be around after this summer.” 

John smiled softly. “That’s kinda how it feels for me, knowing that you’re going to be leaving for college soon. It’s not a bad thing. It does hurt, knowing you’re going to be leaving, but… at the same time, there’s a hell of a lot of pride. For me, it’s because I know that whatever you go off to do is going to be amazing. It just sucks because I won’t get to see you all the time. Your betas are doing the same thing. You know that Lydia is probably going to take over MIT within an hour of being there on her first day, and that Danny is probably going to be her right hand man. You know that Jackson and Theo teamed up are going to be a force to be reckoned with, even more than they already are. That’s the sign of being a good… well, parent in my case, but a damn good leader in yours. You’ve been with them all long enough to know their strengths, and you know they’re going to succeed at whatever they do.”

Stiles nodded. He thought about the past year and how different he was, now. “For a long time, I thought that I was just - not the person you expected me to be, I guess.” He shrugged. “But I’m kind of at this point where I figure, even if you don’t like me that much, that’s okay. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“Stiles.” John said gently. “Who you are is wonderful. And I like and love you very much. There are… some things that are in the past now, that I wished would have changed at the time - the lying, the sneaking out… it doesn’t seem as big a deal now as it did then. Then, I was the Sheriff and your dad, and you were my hyperactive teenage son in high school that seemed to live for getting caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing, but now… you’re my brave, stubborn as hell son that was dealing with things I never could have imagined anyone ever dealing with. Now you’re an alpha with your own ‘kids’ to care for. You’re going off to college, you’ve been living your life under your desires for years, you took care of your dumbass old pops when you shouldn’t have ever needed to, and you’re…” John exhaled. “You’re fantastic. You're much more of an adult than I was at your age, and… I should’ve seen that a long time ago. I know there are parts of me that you don’t like very much. I know I didn’t really do anything to quell that feeling in you. I know I made it worse. That’s on me. That’s my fault, and I’ve gotta live with that.” He gave his son a tiny smile. “You’re a better man than me, Stiles.”

“Do me a favor and tell me that again when something goes wrong.” Stiles laughed. “Because I know better than to think everything is going to be fine.” 

John snorted. “Well, nothing is ever fine for long. Something is always going to go to shit at some point, and - listen, I’ll write a note in my reminders for you, okay? To tell you that again. Because I wholeheartedly believe it. Whatever mess you get hit with, whatever… shit comes your way, you’ll power through and use your brain to work your way through it and outsmart whatever the hell is wrong. Because that’s what you do. And when your betas get out of line, you can now threaten to eat them in one whole gulp.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, at least two of them believe that I will.” He paused, startled by the knowledge that he already thought of Liam and Mason as being two of his betas. “Well, crap. I have to make a few phone calls.” 

John smiled back. “Go ahead. I’ll be here… doing paperwork I hate doing.”

Stiles got up, patting his dad’s shoulder. “If you’re still stuck with it by the time I take care of this pack thing, I’ll come help you.” He went into his bedroom, calling Scott while he got on Skype on his laptop, to see if Jackson or Theo was on. 

Jackson’s profile picture - amusingly enough, a picture of him in profile - was lit up with the little green dot beside it, though his status said, ‘Busy and not actually here right now because I’m waiting for you to get offline.’

Scott answered the phone a few rings later. “Hey, what’s up?”

Stiles laughed at Jackson’s message. “Hey.” He greeted Scott. “Remember how the twins wanted to be your betas and Isaac and I said no, and you listened to us and told them to go away?” 

“Yes.” Scott replied promptly. “Which was a good thing since Ethan took off, like… right after the nogitsune thing.”

“Yeah, well, his brother died.” Stiles muttered. “That’s cause enough for something like that.” He shook his head at himself, trying to stay on topic instead of getting sidetracked, like he always ended up doing. “What if I wanted two betas that I didn’t even know I wanted until it was kinda late and my mind was made up?” 

“Liam and Mason?” Scott said knowingly. “I think if your mind is made up, then so is mine. I don’t have any issues with it. Mason kind of seems like this is what he’s been looking for his whole life, and Liam… honestly, he kinda reminds me a little of me. If we’d met up with an awesome group of juniors when we were their age and were invited to hang out with them, we kinda would’ve jumped at it, right? So… yeah.”

“Good, that’s one vote down.” Stiles murmured. “I’ll just text everyone else, since that’s faster. But I wanted to actually talk to you about it. I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow, after school. Not during lunch, that’s just asking for Mason to start freaking out in the middle of the cafeteria.” He snorted. “See you tomorrow.” 

Scott laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dude.” He said fondly. 

Stiles hung up and sent a text to the rest of the pack. He thought about adding Peter to his list, but decided against it. ‘Any objections to Liam and Mason joining the pack?’

‘Only if they have an objection.’ Erica texted back. ‘And given how hard Mason fan-gasmed over you, I don’t think that’s a thing that would happen.’ She added a thumbs up. ‘Vote of approval from me.’

Derek replied next. ‘I don’t have any problem with it at all. As long as we’re sure they want it, and aren’t going to expose you, I’m not worried.’

‘Danny, Jackson, Theo and I don’t need to weigh in on this.’ Lydia responded. ‘If you think it’s the right decision, I trust you.’ 

‘Having been in your head, I know you wouldn’t accept just anybody.’ Theo added. ‘I say go for it.’ 

Stiles snorted as he read Theo’s message. He waited a few more minutes, then called Allison. “Hey, you didn’t reply. Are you against the idea?” 

“Hey.” Allison murmured. “No - or, not exactly? I mean, it’s ultimately your decision whether or not they become pack, and I’ll back you on that one-hundred percent. I just… I don’t know. Mason seems really gung-ho, and Liam just seems really… wary? Honestly, part of me is sorta worried that they’ll either jump at the chance and get so excited that they blab everything to everyone, or that they’ll reject your offer and then I’ll have to maim them.”

“I’ll definitely help you, if it comes to that.” Stiles murmured. “Look, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want opinions, and the day I want everyone to just tell me yes on something serious like this, I shouldn’t be the alpha for this pack anymore. You have my full respect, you know that. And if I’m wrong, you can do the ‘told you so’ dance. I’ve done that often enough, it might as well be someone else’s turn one of these days.” He laughed. “I’ll talk to them after school tomorrow.” 

Allison giggled softly. “Okay. Do you want me there? You know I’ll absolutely be there if you need me.”

“Yeah, actually. I mean, Lydia doesn’t care and Scott’s kind of bad at explaining...” Stiles laughed. “And you’re human, you’ll be able to talk to them about it in ways that I can’t really relate to, anymore. If I ever could. It’s hard to say.” 

Allison grinned to herself. “You can. I mean, you relate to me, right? Much more than Scott does, anyway. And Scott’s bad at explaining just about everything, so I get it. And I’ll be there. Give me a text when you corner - I mean, when you meet up with them.” She laughed.

Stiles sat down on the edge of his bed. Even though he was dating Derek and their relationship was good, he knew that it had a shelf life. More than once, he had thought about what was on Allison’s list and if any of it applied to him, though he doubted that she matched his list. After he let his mind wander, he always felt like an asshole for giving her any consideration, since she was Scott’s ex-girlfriend. Even though his best friend had moved on and talked to Hayden at least once a day, Stiles didn’t think he could risk mentioning his attraction to Allison. Besides, she was one of his best friends, too. He didn’t want to ruin that by making things awkward. “I’ll probably just have them meet me by my Jeep, after the parking lot clears out. So if you want to wait with me, that’s fine, too.” 

“I’ll wait with you.” Allison murmured. “Just text me, or - actually, I’ll meet up with you right after class and we can walk out together.”

“Okay.” Stiles agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up, laying back on his bed and sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. In a few months, according to Lydia’s estimate, Allison would have her true love and Stiles would still be in denial about his relationship’s eventual death knell. 

**

Stiles used one hand to feed himself fries as he read through a college brochure for NYU, during lunch the next day. He stopped to take notes on an index card, glancing up when he heard chairs on the other side of the table being pulled out, so someone could sit across from him. When he saw Liam and Mason, he set his pen down. “Hey. I want to talk to both of you after school, in the parking lot. By my Jeep.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Mason blurted. “If someone did, it was Liam.” 

“Hey!” Liam blurted, staring at Mason with a glare. “I didn’t say anything, either!” He shook his head and turned to look at Stiles. “What… uh, what do you want to talk to us about?” He asked hesitantly.

“It’s going to have to wait until after school, but neither one of you is in trouble for anything. Let’s keep it that way, all right?” Stiles fought the urge to laugh, keeping his expression serious. “This lunch is crap and I’m pretty damned hungry.” 

Liam stared at him with such an utter look of horror that he physically had to clutch the table to keep himself from stumbling backwards and tripping over his own feet. “Oh my god.” He whimpered.

“Sit down.” Stiles commanded, shaking his head. “Eat your food.” 

Mason stared at Stiles, then laughed. “Oh god, he’s not even serious. He’s been messing with us this entire time.” He looked over at Liam, then back at Stiles. “Does this mean we’re going to be invited into the inner circle?” 

“Inner circ-” Stiles exhaled in frustration and slowly counted to ten. “We’re not the Mafia, we’re in high school. There’s no conspiracy happening here, either. Just wait until almost everybody is gone, then come to the parking lot and talk to me and Allison. In the meantime...” He closed the NYU brochure. “Do either of you need any help with homework or anything?” 

“Uh… I do?” Liam admitted. “I’m not really good at… um, most of my subjects, actually.”

“How are you not good at ‘most’ of your subjects?” Erica asked, dropping into a seat near Stiles, Scott following behind her and looking bewildered. “How in the hell did you get to high school, sweetie?”

“I did a lot of his work for him.” Mason admitted, looking a little sheepish. “And I helped him study for tests. He’s not stupid or anything, he just has a problem with focus. Especially when he’s mad. He’s been like this as long as I’ve known him. He got into a fight with his ex-girlfriend and ended up at a different school for awhile, but that was just middle school.” 

Scott squinted at him. “You got in a fight with your girlfriend and it was bad enough that you transferred schools?” He asked, bewildered.

Liam grimaced, looking shifty. “Um. It’s… I’d rather not talk about it?” He mumbled. “And… I’d rather not talk about the rest of it, too.” He kicked Mason’s foot, scowling.

“I don’t care.” Mason shook his head, smiling. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want you pissed off at me, but your pictures are ridiculous.” He got up, walking around the table as he opened his photo album on his phone, showing the picture to Stiles. “This is what they both looked like. It was Picture Day.” 

Stiles stared down at a picture of Liam and Hayden. He nudged Scott. “Don’t start shit.” He said quietly, then looked up at Mason. “Show Scott.” 

Scott looked at Stiles in confusion. “Show me what?” He asked, glancing at Mason, and then Liam. “What’s wrong, what is it?”

Mason looked just as confused, but he showed Scott the picture he had shown to Stiles. “I don’t know.” 

Scott stared at the picture, blinking. “That… that’s Hayden.” He said, looking up at Mason, and then Liam again. “Your ex is - you punched your ex in the face?”

Liam shrank in on himself, wincing. “It wasn’t a proud moment.” He mumbled. “I wasn’t thinking. She tried to break up the fight, and I swung, thinking she was another jerk trying to take me by surprise.” He looked at Scott, frowning. “How do you know Hayden?”

Scott lifted his chin, looking eerily calm. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.” Stiles put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “You’ll see Hayden again this summer, and you can apologize to each other, then.” He said firmly. 

Mason smiled. “Cool.” He nodded to Stiles, sitting back down across from him. 

Liam nodded, looking down.

Scott reached up and squeezed Stiles’ hand, breathing deeply and slowly in an effort to keep calm. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that the boy his best friend wanted to join his pack was the same boy that had punched his girlfriend - Scott’s forever, if his spell was anything to go by - in the face. It would take a bit for him to be able to look at Liam without scowling.

“She hit him, too.” Stiles whispered, watching Scott. “And it was accidental on his part, but not on hers. So keep that in mind.” 

“I’m trying.” Scott replied softly, keeping his eyes shut as he steadily breathed out. He nodded. “I am. I’m trying.”

“I’m going to college in New York.” Stiles blurted, trying to distract Scott from his control problem. He frowned, wondering if he had made it worse. “Probably. Want to go somewhere and punch me for a little while?” 

Scott blinked. “No?” He followed it up quickly with, “I mean, no I don’t want to punch you. Why would I wanna do that? Do you want me to look for a vet school in New York, still? Because I will, it can’t be too hard to find.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I mean, I want you to, yeah. But I also want you to be able to go to a school you want to... go to. That’s too many to-s and go-s. Whatever. You know what I mean. If you can find a college in New York with a vet program, good. I mean, we don’t even know I’ll get into any schools out there, anyway. I want to, though.” 

Lydia waved a hand to get Stiles’ attention. “If you want to go to New York, then you should. That’s all there is to that. Whatever happens, you’ll have help with whatever you need. It’s too early for you to worry about it, though. You’ve got another year to get through.” 

Scott reached out and squeezed Stiles’ am with a small smile. “And whether I find a college in New York or Boston, I’ll still just be barely a ride away.”

**

After school, Stiles’ list of colleges he was applying to had increased to eighty, all across the country. He decided that he was going to spend every spare minute - when he wasn’t working at whatever job he could get - filling out applications for college and writing essays to mail off with them. He wasn’t in a hurry to get to his Jeep, and there was no lacrosse practice, so he took his time at his locker, cleaning out a lot of the mess that he had put there over the past few months. Candy wrappers and empty water bottles went into the trash can that he had dragged over to his locker, and when he was done, he checked his watch. 

Allison stared at him from across the hall, looking bewildered. “Is this what you’ve been doing?” She asked him, and let out a startled laugh. “I could’ve stopped by earlier and helped you out.”

“It was ridiculous, I wouldn’t have wanted you to witness that.” Stiles shrugged. “Are you ready?” He closed his locker door and decided to spin the dial. 

Allison moved to his side, bumping her shoulder against his. “I’m ready.” She agreed nodding. “Let’s head down as slowly as humanly possible just to give them a scare.”

Stiles laughed. “Devious. I like it.” He nodded, walking toward the exit that was closest to the parking lot. “I need to get a job.” 

“Me, too.” Allison snorted. “A job. A new car. College. I don’t even know what else. I haven’t even decided if I want to go to college yet. I feel like I should, because everyone else is - well, everyone except Erica and Boyd - but… I don’t know.”

Stiles snorted and slid his backpack off of one shoulder, pulling it around and unzipping it as they walked. He got a sheet of paper out that was covered in scrawled words. “This is my list of possible colleges. All eighty.” 

Allison reached for the page, her eyes slowly going wide. “Holy crap.” She muttered. She glanced up at Stiles. “And you’re applying to them? All of them?”

“Yeah, every single one of them.” Stiles nodded. “I’ve been writing a bunch of essays, just to have stuff I can copy and paste for applications. There are really only five or six essay topics that colleges expect someone to write about, anyway.” 

“Can you give me some advice, then?” Allison asked, looking hopeful and a little uncharacteristically meek. “I mean… you’ve picked eighty schools to try your hand at. And you’re already writing essays. I guess I just can’t… I can’t really find the reason for me to want to go to college. I can’t even think of what I should write in an essay if I do end up going to college. I don’t want to leave my dad behind, but I don’t want to be away from any of you.” She gulped. “I don’t really know what to do.”

Stiles turned impulsively and hugged Allison. “You don’t have to leave him behind. The two of you are used to moving around a lot, and I think if you talk to him, he’ll be willing to move when you do. I can’t tell you what your reasons should be, for college. I know that I want a degree in something before I even think about police training. The essay’s easy. Write a sort of compare and contrast paper on how different it is, living in one place instead of moving frequently. Or talk about how it felt to be left back and something-or-other about striving for an education on your own terms.” 

Allison leaned against him, hugging him back tightly as she thought over his words. She still felt uncertain - she’d never really imagined a future for herself that involved college. Thanks to most of her family, she’d already somehow resigned herself to working with weapons and taking over as the matriarch of their once-large clan. But with everyone around her muttering about college visits and essays and applications, she felt like the odd duck and wondered how she could even begin to commiserate with the rest of them when she didn’t even know if she could handle college in the first place. She shut her eyes and sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “It’s hard and I don’t like thinking.” She whined. “I’m Action Girl. That’s what I do - I act. Thinking is… thinking makes me… second guess myself. And feel… uncertain. And unsure.”

“So don’t think.” Stiles murmured. “Just say the first thing that pops into your head, right now. Favorite state?” 

Allison squinted at him in confusion. “Uh, New York?”

Stiles smiled and let go of Allison with one arm, guiding her outside. “Okay, New York.” He nodded. “Favorite subject in school?” 

Allison followed along with him, starting to smile a little. “Art. Even though I’m terrible at it.” 

“So major in art history or art appreciation.” Stiles grinned. “You could work for a museum or an art gallery.” 

Allison took in his words, a startled expression on her face as she thought it over. “You’re right.” She blurted, blinking rapidly. She looked up at him. “Oh my god, you’re so right.”

Stiles laughed. “And there’s your essay, too. Museums or art. Something that stayed constant for you, while you moved around all the time.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked over at the Jeep, where Liam and Mason were waiting. “Do you think they’re going to say no?” 

“Mason won’t.” Allison assured him. “Liam might dither a little bit, but I think he’ll say yes, too.” She studied the two boys, letting a slow smile curl her lips. “I really want to mess with them, Stiles.”

“Go ahead.” Stiles gestured toward the boys. “I’d do something myself, but the lot has cameras.” 

“Oh, right.” Allison made a face. “Damn. Well, I haven’t even thought of what I want to do. I mostly want to scare them. It can wait. Oh!” She turned toward Stiles in excitement. “It can be their initiation thingy into the pack!”

“Okay, but if we do this to them, we’ll have to do it to everyone.” Stiles laughed. “So keep that in mind.” 

Allison grinned. “It’ll be a great way to see how everyone reacts under pressure.” She assured him. “Or… fright. Whatever. We’ll do it later. Next week or something. Come on.” She wrapped her hand around Stiles’ wrist and tugged.

Stiles smiled, letting Allison lead him over to the Jeep. “Okay, here’s the deal.” He told Liam and Mason. “I’m not the only, uh, unusual person in my group of friends, and we had a talk about the two of you and we’ve decided to invite you to actually be in our pack. You don’t have to be... altered, or anything. Expect some hazing, but I’m not telling you when that’s happening. If you say no, you’re still stuck having lunch with us. That’s non-negotiable.” 

“Crap.” Liam blurted softly, cringing. “Oh, I mean… Okay. That’s… okay.” He glanced at Mason, squinting a little. “Is that… something you want? To be in their… uh, group?”

“Don’t you?” Mason gave Liam a curious look. “It would be good to have a group around, you know? People who have already taken the classes we’re going to take, so they can help us make decisions on electives. People who already have notes from those classes. Assuming they saved them, that is.” He looked at Stiles. “Wait, what other supernaturals are there?” 

“That’s a conversation for after today.” Stiles turned toward Liam. “What’s preventing you from giving a straight answer?” 

Liam’s shoulders hunched over, and he looked down. “Most... um. Groups of people. I don’t really… do well around them. I… don’t always agree with them, and then… I get really angry, and -”

“And you Hulk out?” Allison asked bluntly.

“On the nose.” Mason answered for Liam. 

“No, that’s kind of perfect.” Stiles insisted. “We’ve all had to learn control. Even Allison has had some trouble with it.” 

Allison nodded and shrugged a shoulder. “Guilty. So, _so_ guilty.” She told him, smiling crookedly. “I’m still working on it, even. So… it’s not like you’d be alone.”

Liam cleared his throat, glancing at them warily, but looking a little hopeful. “And you guys… wouldn’t be, like… upset if I kind of explode? A little? Because… it’ll happen. I haven’t learned how to keep it under control.”

“As long as you don’t hurt Lydia or Allison...” Stiles looked at Mason, then back at Liam. “Or Mason. Oh, or Hayden? Then yeah, it’ll be okay. The rest of us heal kind of fast. Do something to a human who doesn’t have fast healing, though? I’ll fly you around the Preserve, upside down, until you barf. And then I might drop you in it.” 

Liam went pale. “I won’t - I won’t do anything to - I’ll _try_ not to do anything to anyone. It won’t be on purpose. I swear.”

Stiles nodded. “Good.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Now, do you guys need a ride anywhere?” 

“Uh. Anywhere is good? As long as there isn’t a stop that’ll leave us… um, dead in a ditch somewhere.” Liam joked a little, smiling tentatively up at Stiles.

Allison rolled her head to the side and looked at Stiles blankly. “Damn.” She said dryly. “He found us out.”

Stiles played along. “Yeah, I guess that plan’s out of the question. We could just feed him to the next pack member that wins that lottery we talked about starting.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, that could work. God knows feeding Jackson is getting to be a pain in the ass.” Allison murmured, and then looked at Stiles curiously. “Hey, if you eat someone in your dragon form, do you think they’d be fully digested if you turn back to your human form right after, or would you have, like… a preggers’ belly?”

“I think it’s worth trying, to find out.” Stiles turned toward Mason and Liam. “I am pretty hungry, anyway.” 

“It’s not going to work.” Mason grinned, shaking his head. “I know you’re not serious.” 

Liam’s voice went shrill. “They sound pretty damn serious, Mason!” He squeaked.

Allison managed to hold the bored look on her face for only a few moments longer until her lips very faintly twitched.

Stiles snorted, nudging her. “I’m really hoping that you recorded that. Please, please tell me that you did.” 

“What, am I new?” Allison teased him, lifting her phone from where it had been peeking out of her pocket and pressing it into Stiles’ hand.

Stiles sent the recording to his own phone, then played it back for Liam and Mason to hear. He couldn’t help laughing at Liam’s indignant shriek from the recording. “Where do you guys actually want to go? Home?” 

Liam looked mortified. “Yes, please?” He groaned. 

Allison snorted out a laugh, making her way around to the passenger side. “Shotgun!” She called.

Stiles laughed again and opened the other door for his new betas. “Don’t make any Friday night plans, we all have dinner and watch movies.” 

“That doesn’t interfere with dating?” Mason gave Stiles a doubtful look, then climbed into the Jeep. 

“No, because there’s still Saturday night for that, if you’re a traditionalist. The rest of the week is just as good. Thursday night is when I go out with Derek.” Stiles smiled. 

“And if you really want to switch things up and challenge yourself, there’s Sunday nights.” Allison added, grinning as she climbed in and belted herself in.

Liam stood still for a long moment, trying to figure out what had just happened before he eventually joined the others, sitting in his seat and blinking. “Sundays? What?”

“For dating.” Mason explained. “If I ever find someone to date.” He looked at Allison. “How big is this pack?” 

“Ah… Well, it depends.” Allison murmured, looking over her shoulder at him. “Everyone you saw at my birthday party the other day is a member. Then there’s Jackson and Theo. And… I guess our parents could be considered pack-adjacent? Peter, too… I suppose.”

“And Danny.” Stiles tilted his head, counting. “Peter’s technically not, though. And there are sixteen of us, if we don’t count Peter. If we do, that’s seventeen. Not bad.” He glanced over at Allison and grinned, then started the Jeep. “Erica and Boyd are together, and Derek and I are, but it’s complicated and temporary. Jackson is dating Theo, and Scott’s with Hayden, who I hope will join the pack this summer. Am I forgetting anybody, or is that all of the couples?” 

“That’s all of them.” Allison nodded. “For now, anyway. I won’t meet my partner until the summer, but that - the way I wrote that spell, it doesn’t even mean we’ll get together right away. Isaac hasn’t found his OTL, and neither has Lydia, so… it could be awhile before there are any new members?”

“Wait, you did a spell?” Mason looked intrigued, leaning as far forward as he could. “To find yourselves boyfriends and girlfriends?” 

“It was a little more involved than that.” Stiles explained. “We were watching Practical Magic and Lydia decided to help the universe along, a little bit. Allison and I decided to do it too, and then Isaac said he wanted to. Scott didn’t at the time, but he did it a few days later, because Kira broke up with him. She’s not in the pack. Or at our school. She moved. Derek’s not my person, but Hayden is Scott’s. Allison’s spell might take effect this summer, but if not, it could be any summer. It’s how she phrased it. Lydia’s going to meet hers in a museum in Boston. And she knows who mine is, but I told her not to tell me.” 

“Which is driving her nuts, by the way.” Allison told him, patting his hand. “Anyway, I kinda… wrote myself into a corner with my spell. And I’m starting to think that what Stiles and Derek are doing is what I should be doing, too.” She sighed and shrugged. “I’m bored. And lonely, and I don’t actually know how long it’s going to be, which is frustrating because I’m already tired of waiting. If I could figure out a way to amend the spell, I’d totally do it.”

“You don’t have to wait around.” Stiles shook his head. “Go out with someone. Find a senior, they’re not looking for anything serious right now, anyway.” 

“Good point.” Allison giggled. “I’ll make a play tomorrow.”

Stiles pulled up in front of Mason’s house. “See you tomorrow.” He told Mason, looking over his shoulder at the beta. 

“Wait, I didn’t even give you directions. That’s creepy. Is that a dragon thing?” Mason blinked. 

“No, it’s more like a ‘my dad’s the Sheriff and also I read your file at school and got your address already’ thing.” Stiles said patiently. “If I seem like I’m crossing a line, just remember that I do this to everybody. If my dad so much as thinks about a cheeseburger, I know about it in less than an hour. But he’s got low cholesterol.” 

“And Stiles has informants all over town.” Allison added. “In fact, consider yourselves brand new informants, too. If you see the Sheriff eating anything he’s not supposed to be eating, report.”

Liam was starting to relax as they talked, and he couldn’t help letting out a laugh at Allison’s words. “Gotcha.” He nodded.

“I take care of anyone who will let me.” Stiles murmured. 

“Think you can pick me up for school tomorrow, too?” Mason looked hopeful. 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but be ready to go when I get here. I’ll text you before I leave my house.” 

Mason waved to Liam and walked across his yard, to the front door. 

Stiles pulled away from the curb. “Your house or the hospital?” He asked Liam. “Which one?” 

Liam waved to Mason from the window before turning to look at Stiles. “Mm, my house.” He murmured. “My step-dad’s not on call today, he might be home.”

Stiles glanced over at Allison, wondering if he should say anything to her after Liam was out of the Jeep. He drove over to Liam’s house, then gave him a curious look. “You know, you might want to consider lacrosse. It’s too late in the season now, but Finstock makes all of us run cross-country during first semester. If you signed up for that, you’d have a better shot at making the lacrosse team. I’m bringing it up now because I don’t know if you run a lot or not, and you might want to get started.” 

Liam drew his brows together, looking thoughtful. “Um… yeah.” He murmured. “That… that’s actually a good idea. But also… why do I need to start running a lot?”

“For cross-country.” Stiles took a deep breath. “And also in case somebody tries to attack us. It hasn’t happened in months, but there’s this whole thing about people without power trying to take it from people who do have it. It’s been like that since the dawn of time.” 

“Oh.” Liam’s voice grew small. “And that happens here? Like… regularly?”

“Sporadically.” Allison murmured. “But sometimes… they, uh, change up the pace and show up all at once.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of Mason because I think he would probably just see it as something fascinating.” Stiles admitted. “I know you’re not so sure about us, and I’m not going to pretend it’s all friendship bracelets and pillow fights. Sometimes, we get hurt. Sometimes, people die. But sticking with us gives you a better shot at that not happening.” 

Liam nodded slowly. “Right. No, that’s - you’re right, that’s much smarter.” He murmured. “That’s probably the thing that’ll get me the least killed.”

“Maybe we can make running a pack activity, too.” Stiles mused. “I’ll see how everyone else feels. Some of them are just going to throw shit at me for suggesting it, though.” 

“Let them try,” Allison laughed. “It’s a good idea. I already go for runs in the morning, so this can only really help them.”

“If you had told me, I would have gone with you.” Stiles got out of the Jeep, waiting for Liam to get out. “Do you want me to pick you up in the morning, too?” 

“Sure.” Liam blurted out, looking determined as he slid out of the Jeep. “I… I’d like that. Yes. Please.”

Stiles smiled. “You don’t have to be that formal with me. I’m the alpha here, but I’m not your dad.” He shook his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Liam nodded and smiled back. “See you tomorrow.” He murmured, and headed toward his house. 

Stiles got back into the Jeep, waiting to make sure that Liam was safe in his house before he looked over at Allison. “Okay, where are we going?” He laughed softly. “Just tell me where to drive and call Lydia and Scott on the way.” 

Allison laughed. “I have no idea. Why don’t we just drive around until we find a good stopping point, and then call them?”

“That works for me.” Stiles grinned. “So, have you done a search yet for ‘New York colleges art history majors’ or are you waiting until you get home?” 

“I think I’m going to wait until I get home.” Allison admitted, looking back at him and smiling. “I know I’m good at texting, but it’s a lot easier to copy and paste from a computer than it is a phone. For me, anyway.”

“No, that’s true.” Stiles glanced over at her. “So, do you have a senior in mind, or are you going to do the cliche thing where you let Lydia set you up with someone?” 

“Hmm.” Allison leaned back in her seat, staring out the window. “Honestly? I’ll probably ask Lydia for her help. I know it’s cliche, but… well, she literally knows everyone in school.” She laughed a little. 

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “You should befriend everybody before she leaves, and then we can make Hayden and Liam take care of that, later. Just because we should always have someone in the pack like that.” 

“You think so?” Allison looked back at him, her lips twitching. “It’s a good idea, but I don’t know if that’s a ‘me’ thing, you know?”

“Then we’ll make Mason do it.” Stiles shrugged, snorting. “It’s definitely not for me. I’m more likely to tell someone to fuck off than to say ‘hello’ in the morning.” He parked in front of the coffee shop, across from the school, and got out. “Come on.” 

Allison laughed and slid out of the Jeep, closing the door behind her and rounding the front bumper to walk next to Stiles. “Well, we’re not the same in that regard, but we’re closer than ‘Let me say hi to everyone and know what every single person is up to at all times.’”

“Okay, the knowing what everyone is doing is more like me.” Stiles conceded. “But that’s a holdover from my anxiety issues.” He opened the door for Allison. 

“Thank you.” Allison murmured, slipping through the doorway past him and giving him a big smile. “I mean, technically when your dad’s the sheriff, you’re kind of meant to know what everyone is doing? It’s like… you’d be testing fate if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, and look where that’s gotten me, so far.” Stiles snorted. He shrugged as he followed her into the coffee shop. “I like being with Derek and I don’t like thinking about the day that our relationship is over, even though it’s getting closer with each day that passes. But I know that you’re just as aware of who my OTL is, just like Erica and Lydia know, and I have to stop myself from asking. I can’t do that to Derek.” 

Allison put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I like that about you. That you care so much about Derek, I mean. I wish I could tell you in a way that wouldn’t hurt you or Derek, but… I don’t think I can. I don’t think there is a way. I just know that right now, you’re happy with Derek and that makes me happy. I don’t know if that’s me as your beta, or me as your friend, but either way, I like seeing you with someone who cares about you. And I think, regardless of what happens in the future, you should hang on to that. Hang on to him.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah.” He smiled. “I was even thinking that if it hasn’t happened by this date that he and I agreed on, for either of us, then maybe he and I can adopt kids, anyway? Lots of kids have step-parents.” 

Allison grinned back at him. “Then I hope it doesn’t happen for either of you for awhile. You’re so great together. I can’t imagine how anything else would compare.” She sat down at a table, smiling fondly. 

Stiles started to sit down, then laughed to himself. “Uh, what do you - white chocolate something?” He guessed, gesturing toward the menu board. 

“Oh - if you’re offering.” Allison nodded and squinted at the board. “White chocolate peppermint, if they’ve got it. Otherwise, um, maybe just a mocha with caramel sauce?”

“Caramel mocha.” Stiles walked over to stand in line. 

Lydia walked in, setting her purse down at the table where Allison was, before she walked over to Stiles to hand him money and tell him what she wanted. She sat down beside Allison and smiled at her. “Hi.” 

“Hi!” Allison laughed. “Stiles and I were talking. I’m getting bored, waiting for my OTL. Do you… think you could introduce me to some seniors? The ones that don’t really, you know, care about leaving me behind when they head for college? I don’t want something just physical, but I don’t want to be alone and lonely until…” she shrugged. 

Lydia thought for a minute. “I guess if we’re not worried about them interacting with the pack, your options are more open than if it was a concern. But you know there are other possibilities.” 

“Such as?” Allison asked curiously, folding her hands over each other and leaning forward toward her friend.

“You could date casually within the pack.” Lydia pressed her lips together, then started looking through her purse for lip gloss. “Even if things get awkward, you’ll be leaving for years, so you can have time and distance take care of that. There’s always Liam. I know he’s younger, but that shouldn’t matter. Scott’s younger than you, too.” 

Allison winced. “I… don’t really think that dating Liam is a good idea. And - I mean, at least Scott is in the same grade as I am.”

“So you would really rather date a senior. Where did that idea come from? You’ve never expressed an interest in them, before.” Lydia applied gloss to her lips and put the tube back into her purse. “Sometime in the past couple of hours, you decided out of nowhere to have me find a senior for you, so you could date him, whoever he is?” She smiled knowingly. “Try telling me the truth.” 

Allison snorted, lightly kicking at Lydia’s foot. “Stiles suggested it. The seniors are all leaving soon and there’d be no real fear of attachment, I think. I could just have some fun with one of them, whether it’s hanging out or messing around, and that’s all it’ll be. I’m angry at myself for the way I worded my spell, Lyds.” She sighed. “Because I’ve basically set myself up to be alone for however long it takes for me to find my OTL. I didn’t say, ‘I’ll meet them this summer,’ I said, ‘it’ll be summer,’ so it could happen this year, or next year, or… god, I don’t even know when. And I even specified that we’d get into a fight before we ever…” She trailed off, rubbing a hand over her face in irritation with herself. “And… besides, of all of the guys in the pack right now, I’ve dated Scott, I’ve rebounded with Isaac, Jackson and Theo are dating, Boyd’s seeing Erica, and Stiles and Derek are seeing each other. Based on the way Mason was gawking at Stiles at my birthday party, he’s at _least_ bi if not completely gay, and I already made my point about Liam.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t have that many options based on the guys in the pack, and based on my preferences, I’d ask you if you wanted to mess around until you leave for college, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react to that.”

Lydia smiled. “I’m flattered, but no. Unlike just about everyone else in this pack, I’m heterosexual.” She laughed. “Stiles and Derek know that they’re not permanent. Why don’t you ask one of them to help you out once or twice before you meet your person?” 

Allison’s face scrunched up in uncertainty. “Wha… Can I actually do that? I mean… I feel like that’s a dick thing to do, isn’t it? ‘You guys aren’t going to last, how about you help me out?’” She snorted at herself, covering her mouth.

“Well, I wouldn’t phrase it that way.” Lydia shook her head. “I think they’re secure enough in their relationship to discuss it and talk to you afterward, either way.” 

Allison hummed, glancing back at Stiles for a moment. She chewed on her lower lip hesitantly, and then shrugged. “I mean… it’s worth a shot. The worst they could do is say no.”

“Exactly.” Lydia glanced over her shoulder, wondering when Scott would show up. She felt a little unsettled, but not in the usual way, and she wasn’t sure what the cause was. 

Scott wandered through the door a little bit after that, looking around for the other three and stopping at the table when he spotted them. “Hey!” He wrapped his fingers around a chair, tugging it out before dropping down into his seat. 

Stiles set drinks down for himself, Allison and Lydia. He gave Scott a small smile. “I guess you’re stuck waiting in line. That’s what you get for being late.” 

Scott sighed and shrugged. “Story of my life, dude.” He stood up, smiling crookedly and clapping his hand on Stiles’ shoulder before he moved toward the line forming at the counter.

Allison hummed happily as she reached for her drink. “Thank you so much.”

Lydia turned her head to look at Stiles. “Invite Derek to come spend time with us. Besides, there’s a question that he’ll want to weigh in on.” 

Stiles looked confused, but he sent Derek a text. ‘Lydia wants you to come to the coffee shop.’ 

‘Okay. I’d better answer Her Highness’ summons. Have this weird feeling like she’ll come back to haunt me if I don’t.’ Derek replied. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Stiles laughed to himself and put his phone in his pocket. “He’s on his way. But what’s going on?” 

“Allison can explain it better than I can.” Lydia sipped her drink. 

“It’s about the senior thing.” Allison said calmly, waving a hand as she took a drink from her own cup. She grimaced, but not from the taste. “That sounds weird and not at all what I meant. It’ll sit until Derek gets here.”

Stiles gave both of the girls a confused smile, then laughed softly. “I think I need to become friends with an ice dragon.” 

“If they exist, I call dibs on travel firsts.” Allison claimed, grinning. “Because... saying it the other way would also be odd and awkward.”

“Nobody’s even... never mind.” Stiles snorted. “Maybe if you guys weren’t cowards.” 

Allison balled up a napkin and tossed it at him. “Excuse you,” she laughed. “Who are you calling a coward?”

“You.” Stiles smiled. “Because you are. All of you. I offered to take someone around the Preserve, and nobody agreed.” 

“Because it felt awkward to ask to ride you!” Allison blurted, and then promptly went red. “You know what I mean! Anyway, if the offer is still on the table, I’m for it. Just… uh, don’t go too high off the ground? At least not at first? I’m not sure how well I’d handle heights on the back of something bigger than a seven-forty-seven.”

“I don’t think I’m that big.” Stiles blinked when Lydia giggled at him. “Shut the hell up, Lydia. I’ve never heard any complaints from Derek. And that wasn’t what I meant.” 

Allison dropped her head to the table, cackling. “This is the _best_ conversation ever.” She declared.

Lydia picked up her drink and her purse. “I’m going to make Scott sit outside with me.” She nodded to Allison. “We’ll come back and talk when you’re done with your discussion.” 

“Thanks.” Allison smiled, nodding back at her. She glanced up when the bell above the front door rang and Derek stepped inside. “Good, you’re here. C’mere, sit down.” She told him, smiling a little more widely. Inside, she was panicking about what she was about to ask the two men, but part of her was excited. She felt nervous and giddy, and she hoped that neither of those emotions were coming across on the surface - that she just looked cool and collected.

Derek raised his eyebrows, glancing at Lydia briefly, and then Scott as he hurried past. Shrugging a shoulder, he made his way over to the table where Allison and Stiles were sitting, then sat down. He smiled at Stiles, tilting his head to offer his boyfriend a kiss before sitting back.

Stiles grinned. “Allison, what do you need to ask us?” He reached for Derek’s hand and used his free hand to take another drink of his coffee. 

Allison’s lips twitched a little, and she waited until he had liquid in his mouth before she said, “Have sex with me.”

Derek choked, blinking wildly at her.

Allison watched in amusement, raising her eyebrows. “Or date me, or whatever. We’re all kind of in the same boat.”

Stiles pressed his hand to his mouth, grimacing as he let go of Derek’s hand and worked on cleaning up his mess. “Neither of those were questions, first of all.” He muttered, looking up at her. “Can’t you just...” He shook his head. “You’re eighteen, go buy a dildo. I mean, I don’t know.” He looked at Derek. “I’m not giving her a solid no, unless you want me to. Because she’s got a valid point.” 

“Uh.” Derek scratched at the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “That’s… I don’t really know what to say to that, honestly. I don’t know if it’s a good idea, regardless of the point she’s making?”

Allison’s smile faltered, and she nodded. “Right. Yeah. Well, I mean, I wasn’t expecting a yes, and… I figured that the worst I’d get was a no, so…” She cleared her throat. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable. I was just…” She scoffed at herself, smiling faintly. “Being obnoxious.”

“It’s okay.” Stiles assured her. “And I want to help, but... I don’t know?” He looked at Derek. “Give me a clue what you want me to do, here. I don’t know if I want to, uh, do anything?” He looked back at Allison. “I mean, you’re beautiful and I’m not stupid or blind. But...” He shrugged, redirecting his attention to Derek again. “I don’t care that we’re looking at a ticking clock, you know? I don’t want to do anything to mess up what we have, while we have it.” 

“Neither do I.” Derek murmured, looking back at him. “This isn’t a situation I’ve been in before, so… I really don’t know what to say. I’m - I want to help, but I don’t want to… step out of bounds, or something.” He grimaced. 

Allison sighed. “It’s alright. I’m - I keep going off of everyone else’s advice, and I should really learn to do things for myself. I asked Lydia about… finding a senior, and she suggested keeping it within the pack. Well…” She shrugged, looking down and feeling guilty. “You’re… not each other’s forever. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… but it’s true. And… you’re still together, despite it. I even…” She snorted, shaking her head. “I even asked Lydia. If she would want to… but no. And I can’t go back to Scott - I wouldn’t even if he didn’t have Hayden. I won’t go to Isaac. Jackson has Theo, and they aren’t even around, and… I’m pretty sure if I made a move to ask either Erica or Boyd, one or both of them would string me up and gut me, regardless of how far we’ve come? The only two left are Mason and Liam, and I’m pretty sure Mason is out of the running. And Liam just reminds me of a tiny Scott, so… no. Definitive, _emphatic_ no. I just… I’m mad at myself for this stupid spell. And I don’t want to be alone while I wait for whoever I’m meant to be with to finally… see me.”

“It’s March.” Stiles mused. “At the earliest, it’ll be June before you meet this person. And I feel like - I agreed to be in charge of all of you, or even outright requested that. If that means handling something like this, then I might as well?” He glanced at Derek again, hoping he wasn’t alienating his boyfriend. “But probably not like you’d expect? I mean, I could help you figure out alternative solutions to me actually, physically, doing something? And if that doesn’t work and it’s, like, May? Then we’ll have this discussion again.” 

Allison tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully, her eyes a little wistful as she watched Derek firmly wrap his arm around Stiles and hold him close. “Yeah. That… I guess that’ll work.” She murmured. She was surprised to realize that despite knowing the enormous possibility of an outright ‘no,’ she was disappointed at the lack of an outright yes. More and more, she wished she’d phrased her spell differently, and wished harder that there could be a spell to amend it. She never had been very patient.

Stiles watched Allison for a minute, then turned his head to kiss Derek. “I have to go.” He said softly. “Allison, get up. We’re going for a drive.”

Allison stayed still in her seat for a moment longer, and then nodded, standing up. She hesitated, though, and looked at Derek. “I really am sorry for making you uncomfortable.” She said softly. “I can’t… I can’t even really deny that I did it on purpose, but I didn’t mean to make you…” She gestured at him.

Derek stared at her for a moment, his eyes soft. “It’s alright. I understand.” He gave her a small smile and nodded his head toward his boyfriend. “Go on.” He turned his head to kiss Stiles’ back, squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’ll stop by your house later, okay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled at Derek, getting up and going outside. He got his keys out of his pocket as he walked toward the Jeep, shaking his head a little. He had been blindsided by Allison’s request and wondered if that meant he hadn’t been paying close enough attention. 

Allison followed him out slowly, holding onto her cup with a frown. She took a sip, sighing as she made her way around to the passenger side of the Jeep and climbed inside.

“There are options.” Stiles looked over at her, his hands on the steering wheel. “You can modify your spell, or keep waiting. You can tell me to drive you to the nearest store that sells adult toys and wait in the parking lot while you go get something, and I don’t need to know anything further than that. You could tell me you’d rather do something over the phone, though I don’t see how that’s going to be as good. It could still help, but it’s not - not the same thing, at all. I know that. Or we can forget that we ever had that discussion at all, go to the Preserve and just hang out there for a few hours.” 

Allison slumped a little in embarrassment, putting a hand over her eyes. “I’ve been wondering if the spell could’ve been modified. I never thought to ask, I just… wallowed. I don’t… think that the other options will help me much. Well. Maybe the hanging out in the Preserve. Not so much the forgetting, because I’m pretty sure I’ve seared it into my memory so that I don’t ever do it again.”

“For what it’s worth, even though I probably shouldn’t be saying it?” Stiles started the Jeep. “If I wasn’t with Derek, there wouldn’t have been a question. Except that’s not either of us being fair to ourselves. This whole thing... we need to be careful. We’re stopping at my house to get some stuff, and then we’ll go out to the woods.” 

Allison nodded mutely, looking out the window.

“Or we could try something else.” Stiles muttered. “Because I feel like I’m pissing you off or upsetting you, or something. And if it was anyone else, I wouldn’t care.” 

“It’s not you.” Allison mumbled. “I mean, you’re not pissing me off. You didn’t do anything. I’m just… I’m mad at myself, I feel like a moron. I don’t want to be alone, so I do a spell to find my OTL, but then I’m too impatient to wait it out the way everyone else has to? Well, except Scott.” She muttered. “So because I don’t want to deal with being by myself, I figure, ‘well, Stiles and Derek aren’t meant to be, maybe they won’t mind me interfering in their relationship because I don’t want to search for someone all on my own.’ I feel like an asshole.” She looked at Stiles. “I’ve been basically championing your relationship with Derek. I’m frigging president of the ‘yay Stiles and Derek!’ club. So now, because I feel pathetic and I feel lonely, I think it’s okay to justify approaching you both like that because… because you aren’t going to end up together? Because ‘we’re in the same boat’?” She mocked herself. “What kind of person does that? A jerk. A jerky, asshole person, that’s the kind of person that does shit like that.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Maybe.” He pulled out of his parking space, joining the flow of traffic. “But a jerky, asshole person might also be the one who is in a good relationship, knowing it’s going to end eventually, and thinks about other people from time to time because maybe he thinks there’s no reason not to let his mind wander, that way? I figure acting on it would be worse, so just thinking idly about stuff is harmless? It’s not like I’ve ever had a relationship before. I’m surrounded by hot people, it’s not like I stopped noticing that.” He glanced toward her. “I mean, I could still help you get off, I don’t think it counts as cheating if I don’t actually touch you and you have an orgasm. It’s not like - it’s not like watching porn and getting off means you had sex with a porn star. Not that I’m saying you should watch me and Derek. Or just me. Or just Derek. Unless he’s okay with that, and then that’s okay with me. As long as he’s happy.” 

Allison’s cheeks were flaming red, and she put her hands up to her face, breathing deeply. “Okay, okay, um. Voyeurism aside, um, I don’t… I don’t want to do anything that makes you or Derek… not okay. I really don’t. And… I don’t think this is the sort of thing that would let Derek… be okay? I don’t know. Maybe I should just… shut up about it, or, or let you and Derek talk about it when I’m not there making things weirder?”

“Then let’s just pretend nothing we just said was ever said.” Stiles murmured. “Except for the part about talking it over again, in May.” He parked in his driveway. “I’ll be right back, I’m getting some stuff, so we can alter our spells. I might as well alter mine, too.” 

Allison nodded and settled into her seat, wrapping both hands firmly around her cup.

Stiles got back into the Jeep a few minutes later, handing a black bag to Allison. “Do we need to go to your house to get your notebook, or do you already have it?” 

Allison took the bag, and then set her coffee cup between her thighs. She held it carefully as she arched and reached into her back pocket to grab the notebook, waving it at Stiles. “We’re good.”

Stiles smiled. “Okay.” He drove to the Preserve, his mind on what he wanted and didn’t want, in another person. He knew he couldn’t just change his criteria, but he could add more details. His smile widened as he parked the Jeep and got out, writing new details on the notebook page with the original spell. “I’m telling you, because I don’t mind if you know.” He looked up at Allison. “I’m just going to read this to you, okay? ‘Before I meet my one true love, I will finish college. Everyone in my pack will get married. I will take a walk around the world. There will be a solar eclipse. The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series. I will be invited to join the CIA. I will see the Mets play twenty home games. I will molt once more. Five people will give me something I didn't know I needed. My pack will have twenty people or more in it.’ I know it sounds crazy, but I want it to sound crazy.” He explained. “Because it gives me more time with Derek. I don’t know who this person is, but you do. I don’t want you to tell me. Maybe none of this stuff can happen. I mean, the Cubs? They haven’t won a World Series in more than a hundred years. And nobody’s going to ask me to be in the CIA. I can be with Derek for the rest of our lives.” 

Allison’s eyes softened, and she leaned against him, giving him a tight hug. “I completely understand.” She said softly. “For what it’s worth, I really hope that you and Derek stay together forever. I don’t think you really needed that spell in the first place. Not when you’ve got him now.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Stiles shook his head. “Did you amend yours?” 

“Not yet.” Allison murmured. She looked around the clearing, and then sat down against a tree trunk, drawing her knees to her chest. She opened the notebook and stared at her spell blankly, her brows furrowed as she tried to think of what she could add. “‘I don’t want to stay angry, if we fight when we first meet.’” She narrated out loud, so that Stiles could hear. “‘If only because I don’t want that to be the only emotion I associate with them. They will be able to shift, as frequently or infrequently as they want - it’s important that they have control. We’ll see each other in passing before we formally meet - glimpses, and words, and moments where we’ll be close to coming face-to-face only to find ourselves distracted by one thing or another.’” She put the pen down and frowned, looking up at Stiles with a sigh. “I can’t think of anything else.”

“No, that’s good.” Stiles insisted. “Now you’ll see them a few times. That means anybody you come across, who you don’t already know and don’t get to know the name of, might be your person. You can keep track.” He had set up candles and rose petals, then got water from a stream while Allison had been thinking and writing. “Okay, come here and do this.” He glanced down at the candles, then blew on them to light them, grinning proudly. 

Allison smiled faintly, standing and moving to his side. She shook her head at the candles, amazed. “Still can’t believe that you can do that.” She murmured, reaching for the ingredients she needed.

Stiles gave the orange rose petals in front of him a fond look as he grabbed a handful. He repeated the original spell, adding the new conditions to it. With each line, he let the wind carry another petal away, out to the trees. When he finished, he blew his candle out and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. “Is my person someone that lives around here?” He asked, looking over at Allison when he was certain she had finished her spell. 

Allison was silent for a moment, watching the last of her petals flutter away before she looked back at him. “Do you really want to know?” She asked. “Because I _will_ tell you.” Her eyes were gentle as she spoke, though they remained cautious. 

Stiles licked his lips, then closed his eyes for a second, taking a few deep breaths. He looked at Allison again. “Fuck it. Give me a name.” 

Allison swallowed, looking a little scared. “You… I don’t think you’re going to be happy when you know.” She told him, trying to hold out a little longer. 

Stiles laughed, but he wasn’t amused by what she was saying. “There’s only one person we know who can cause you to say that.” He muttered. “Say it anyway.” 

Allison licked her lips. “Peter Hale.” She said softly. 

Stiles’ lips twitched and he stood up. “I’m going to need a few minutes.” He yanked his shirt off over his head, kicking his shoes off. He undressed the rest of the way quickly, shifting and letting out an anguished roar before he flew up into the sky. 

Allison shut her eyes and once more brought her knees to her chest, wrapping an arm around them. “I’m sorry.” She murmured.


	13. The Release

When Stiles got back to his Jeep, his clothes were on the driver’s seat, along with the spell supplies. Lydia and Allison had sent him texts, telling him that they understood and would see him the next day. He got dressed and drove himself home on autopilot. Reaching for his dad’s bourbon was tempting, but he called Derek, instead. “Hey. I’m home.” 

“Hey.” Derek answered. “I can be over in a little bit.”

“Um, I don’t think - I don’t know. I have to tell you something and it’s better for it to be in person, but I don’t want you to drive all the way over for it.” Stiles murmured. 

Derek was silent for a moment, and then said, “I think being where you are right now is the only place I want to be. Especially if you’ve found out something that’s… not good.”

“Okay.” Stiles said quietly. “I’ll see you soon, then.” He hung up and found himself wishing that his alpha form was smaller, like the alpha wolf form was. Being able to curl up by someone and not have to talk sounded like the best thing for him. He shivered, rubbing his arms before he started crying. It was the second time he had done that since Allison had confirmed what Stiles already suspected, and he went into his bedroom and laid down on his stomach, trying to quell his sobs. 

Seconds, minutes, hours later, warm arms wrapped around Stiles’ body, drawing him close. Derek’s lips pressed against Stiles’ temple, and he rested his cheek against the top of his boyfriend’s head, rocking him gently. “You found out.” He said softly. “Who your… match was?”

“Yeah.” Stiles rubbed his eyes and looked up at Derek. He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think it’s clear that it’s not good, and that’s all that matters, right? Can’t we just ignore it? I won’t be eighteen until next year, but you know, you could marry me or something. We’ll move away and let Lydia run the pack. Or we’ll move the whole pack somewhere else. I don’t care.” 

Derek smiled softly, lifting Stiles’ hands and pressing kisses to the knuckles. “Lydia won’t want to run the pack, and you know that. But I wouldn’t be opposed to the other points you made.” He murmured. “Within time. For right now, we can sit here and ignore everything for as long as you need. 

“Okay.” Stiles closed his eyes. “I modified my spell.” He suddenly felt exhausted. “So he won’t ever have a chance to even think he can be with me. I - um, I came up with a lot of improbable things, and that was before I even knew. I wanted to have more time with you. I figured if this other person couldn’t even find me until stuff like, the Cubs winning the World Series or a solar eclipse happened, then maybe that gives us time. I just want to be with you and adopt half a dozen kids and live wherever you want, because that doesn’t matter to me.” 

“It doesn’t matter to me either, as long as I’m with you.” Derek said softly. “I want all those things, too. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted them with. It’s hard not to… wish that fate can be changed. We chose each other, why can’t fate let us have this?” He cupped Stiles’ cheek, his thumb gently tracing the track of a tear. “We’ll figure things out. We always do.”

Stiles leaned in to kiss Derek, then curled up against him and closed his eyes again. “I don’t even feel much like talking. I just want you to stay here with me. Forever.” 

Derek curled around Stiles, nuzzling against him with a soft sigh, closing his own eyes. “I’ll be right here. Always.”

“Oh my god, you just _Snaped_ me.” Stiles laughed. “Well, so much for me not talking, because now I have to know your opinion on everything. What house are you? I feel like everybody thinks they’re in Gryffindor for some damned reason. Fuck Gryffindor. No points for them. You’re not the Slytherin type, either. That’s more my speed. And you’re not so much the Ravenclaw type, that’s Lydia. I guess that makes you a Hufflepuff. They have that whole hard work and loyalty thing, and that’s definitely you.” 

Derek groaned, flushing and burying his face in Stiles’ neck. “No. I regret everything. I take back everything I said. No Snape. No Hogwarts.”

“No way.” Stiles grinned. “Okay, you’re definitely not like Snape. I never really got that, anyway. What the hell purpose does it serve to be pissed off at a kid whose mom died when he was a baby, you know? I get that there was the whole ‘but he loved her all along’ thing. That’s more of a reason to not be a dick. It kind of makes me wonder if Harris had a thing for my mom. Which is gross and weird, and we’re forgetting I ever said that.” 

“You didn’t have to bring it up,” Derek teased, sounding amused. “It disturbed me a little more that part of his love for her felt more like entitlement. Like he deserved her more because he was friends with her first.”

“So Snape’s a neckbeard.” Stiles laughed. “He probably has fedoras in his house. It’s not like we would ever know.” 

“That’d be difficult.” Derek agreed. “Considering he’s a book character and doesn’t actually exist.” He nosed at Stiles’ neck playfully, nipping at his collarbone. “I was always more of a Harry and Hermione fan. Didn’t really care about Snape and Lily.”

“I think anyone with common sense ships Harry and Hermione.” Stiles put his arm around Derek, rubbing his back. “I feel like I shouldn’t say this, but - Ron’s a clumsy idiot who mostly just got in the way. Except for that chess game. Ron is me.” 

Derek shook his head. “I’m not sure who you are, but you’re not Ron.” He murmured, lifting Stiles’ chin with one hand to kiss him lightly. He smiled playfully. “I mean, maybe I’m imagining things here, but you do massive amounts of research, you don’t take any of my bullshit, you yell at me when I do stupid things, you care an insane amount…” He shrugged one shoulder. “I was kind of thinking you were the Hermione to my Harry, really.”

“If Hermione was in Slytherin, maybe.” Stiles laughed. “I’ve always looked at rules as a thing to exploit, for the loopholes.” 

Derek huffed. “I’m aware.” He teased his boyfriend.

“Smartass.” Stiles grinned. “I’m just saying that there’s probably some obscure character in Slytherin who is more like me than Hermione is. But I see what you’re saying, in terms of... looking for answers.” 

“Mmhm.” Derek nudged Stiles away gently before leaning back on the bed properly, squirming to get comfortable. He reached an arm out to Stiles. “We’ll never know who that Slytherin character is, though, because… they don’t exist.” He scrunched up his face, aware that he’d made the exact same point about the fictional potions master earlier.

“Except that they do.” Stiles argued, shaking his head. “They’re on paper, they’re in movies. They might not pay taxes or go grocery shopping, but they matter. I mean, people care about them.” 

“No, babe, I mean….” Derek’s hand waved a little. “They don’t _exist_. Not in the novels, or the movies. Harry’s first year sorted, what, ten students into each House? There’s only nine students in Slytherin’s first year that were given names.”

“Holy shit, you’re obsessed.” Stiles laughed. “I didn’t know I was dating a nerd.” He leaned in to kiss Derek, but stopped just short of their lips touching. “Hey, we need a uniform.” He blurted. “Like, a pack t-shirt or something. Not something that obviously identifies us as a pack, just... something.” He snorted. “Let me say ‘something’ about twenty-something more times. Or something.” 

Derek lifted his chin, catching Stiles’ mouth. “Shut it and kiss me.” He murmured, his lips twitching. “We’ll work on a t-shirt idea. And I’m…” He sighed. “We loved the books. _Half-Blood Prince_ was released the year of the fire.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to read it. Laura couldn’t, either. We’d lost all of them when the house went up, anyway.”

“I’m an asshole.” Stiles frowned. “Sorry.” He licked his lips, then looked at Derek. “Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry.” He said quickly. “Because I’m not going to walk on eggshells around you or treat you like you’re made of glass all the time. What happened to you was fucking awful, nobody would dare argue that. But if I never mention anything that might bring back memories of your family, then we’re not going to have a whole lot to talk about. Maybe we need our own version of a safeword, though? You won’t have to explain anything to me, if you don’t want to. Just saying a word or a phrase should be enough to get me to shut up.” 

Derek shook his head. “No. We don’t need a safeword. It’s been… it’s been years since I’ve talked about them. They deserve to be talked about. They deserve to be remembered. I’ll never have them back, so I should at least hold on to the memories they left me, right?” He shrugged. “I don’t want you to be sorry, and I’m glad you won’t treat me like glass. If you do say something that bothers me… well, you’ll know.” He smiled crookedly. 

**

Stiles picked up the box he had brought with him, over to Derek’s. He was wary of coming face to face with Peter, knowing what he did, but he was determined to treat the dinner like any other dinner. “Okay, I ordered these on Monday night.” He opened the box. “I did my best to get everyone the size and style of shirt they would have asked for, but having this be a surprise means that somebody’s going to be a little disappointed. I can order replacements, though. Or you could just do it yourselves.” He started tossing black t-shirts to pack members. 

Lydia admired the white design on the front of the shirt. It looked almost floral, but she tilted her head, then turned the shirt sideways. “This says ‘bullshit.’” She remarked, looking up at Stiles. 

“I know.” Stiles grinned. “It’s awesome.” 

Scott choked out a laugh, lifting a hand to give Stiles a high-five. “That’s amazing, dude. That’s so cool.”

Allison looked amused, sitting beside Lydia and studying the shirt. “Well, no one will look closely, they’ll be too distracted by the pretty swirls.”

“And you don’t think it’ll become apparent that something is going on, if we all wear the same shirt?” Lydia shook her head. “I think I’ll save this for college.” 

“Well if we all go around wearing it on the same day around town, I’m sure plenty of people will think we’re some kind of cult.” Erica pointed out, already shucking off her t-shirt and yanking the new one down over her head. “But… I mean, like I give a fuck what people think.”

“I love this.” Mason laughed. “I’m wearing mine to school on Monday.” 

“They already think we’re a cult.” Stiles laughed. “We might as well keep them talking about that. It’ll keep them further from the truth.” 

Isaac was shrugging into the shirt as well, right on Erica’s heels. “I mean, they really do already think we’re all weird as hell.” He agreed, glancing at Lydia.

Derek watched in amusement as Scott, and then Allison put their shirts on as well, Liam hurriedly following suit. He glanced at Lydia, his lips twitching. “I don’t think they agree with you.”

“You must have me confused with someone who cares.” Lydia said dryly. 

“Lydia, put the damned shirt on.” Stiles snapped, laughing at her. “I promise you that wearing a t-shirt won’t compromise your integrity.” 

Lydia stared back at Stiles as she started unbuttoning her shirt. 

Allison snorted, reaching for her glass to take a drink. She shook her head in amusement. “So this is happening right now.” She murmured. “A staring match and strip show combo?”

Lydia’s lips only twitched slightly before she threw her blouse at Allison and pulled the t-shirt on over her head. “Is everyone happy now?” 

At once, Erica and Allison both threw their arms around Lydia. Allison kissed her right cheek. “Unbelievably so.” She giggled.

Erica kissed the left cheek. “You have no idea.”

Lydia laughed. “Cretins.” She looked around the room. “If everyone wears this on Monday, I will, too.” 

Scott threw his arms up in the air gleefully. “Yes!” He cheered.

Derek shook his head and sat down in his seat, lightly trailing his fingers over the table toward his fork.

Stiles glanced down at the box, then looked up at Peter. He grabbed the last shirt and walked toward Derek’s uncle. “If I give you this, if you accept this, you’re officially part of this pack.” He said quietly. “If you don’t want to be, that’s fair enough. But the offer is here.” He waved the shirt at Peter. 

Peter stared at Stiles for a long moment, then sighed. “Why on God’s green earth do you want me to be in your pack?” He asked. “You do recall that I’m an ‘alpha killer,’ don’t you?” His voice was sarcastic.

“Oh yeah?” Stiles smirked. “Stab me. Right now.” He wasn’t at all afraid of Peter doing exactly that; if the werewolf did attack him, Stiles would fight back and he would have his entire pack helping him. But there was also the fact that Peter was his ‘one true’ and Stiles believed wholeheartedly that every detail on his list had to apply to Peter. 

Peter glowered at him. “I don’t understand you and I don’t like things I don’t understand.” He muttered. 

“Bullshit.” Stiles grinned, tossing the t-shirt to Peter. “Welcome to the pack.” 

“I’ll take it, but I’m not wearing it.” Peter grumbled, snatching the shirt and stuffing it off to the side. 

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck.” Stiles shrugged and sat down at the table. 

Peter glared down at the table, tapping his much sharper nails against the top of it. He’d only shown up tonight because he was bored and hungry, and was tired of ordering out. 

Lydia smiled as she sat down by Stiles. ‘Are you okay?’ She mouthed. 

Stiles nodded. He had made gruyere macaroni and cheese, and he was eager to see how everyone reacted to it, but he knew he wouldn’t have served it if he thought it was going to turn out badly. 

Erica had already finished serving herself and Boyd, and had made it halfway through her own plate before she’d started helping herself to Boyd’s. “This is so fucking good,” she muttered, letting out a pleased growl. 

Allison glared at her. “If you even try to steal mine, I’m throwing the plate out of the window.” She hugged it closer to her, leaning away from the blonde. 

Boyd wrapped his hands around Erica’s wrists and pushed them away from his plate. “Finish yours. Leave mine alone.” 

Erica whined, pouting down at her plate. “It tastes amazing. It tastes better off of your dish.”

Scott snorted and dug in happily, glad that no one was around who would steal his own serving. 

Derek brushed his lips over Stiles’ cheek with a smile. “It really is good. It’s fantastic.”

Stiles grinned. “Thanks. If everyone eats from their own plate, _Erica_ , there’s dessert, after this.” 

Erica glowered at him, sticking a forkful of mac and cheese in her mouth in lieu of snarking back. 

Lydia eyed Peter, still trying to figure out how the older man had ended up being perfect for Stiles, whether he knew it or not. 

Peter stuck his fork into the mac and cheese, ignoring Lydia and eating silently. After only a moment, he found himself already annoyed and stared back at her. “Yes?”

“Nothing at all.” Lydia smiled. She eyed the line between Peter and Stiles, satisfied that it was longer than it had been, only a week earlier. “I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” 

“Oh, no, not at all, my dear.” Peter gave her a false smile back. “I’m just stunned by how taken you seem to be with me. I must say, I’m a little surprised that you suddenly can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

“I’m just -” Lydia murmured, but Stiles interrupted her. 

“We obviously need to spend a few days doing team-building shit this summer.” Stiles glared at Lydia, then directed the same look at Peter. “Mandatory things.” 

Peter sneered and bared his teeth, uncaring that Stiles was a massive fifteen-foot tall carnivorous reptile that could swallow him in one gulp.

Derek let out a low growl of warning at his uncle. “Shut up, eat your food, and listen to your alpha.” He snapped.

Peter rolled his eyes. “He’s not my --”

“You accepted the t-shirt, he’s your alpha.” Allison crowed. “Any argument you have is invalid. He flat out told you what he was doing!”

Peter grit his teeth. “Enough, Argent spawn.” He snapped.

Stiles slammed his hands down on the table and stood up. “Peter, _shut up_!” 

Peter fell silent, his jaw tight, but he didn’t speak, turning his gaze back to his plate and eating silently and quickly. He finished the plate, stood up, and deposited it in the sink before he turned and looked at Stiles, inclining his head. “Thank you for dinner.” He said stiffly. “Excuse me.” He started for the door.

“If you even think you’re leaving right now, I’m going to pick you up in my claws and drop you on your head in the middle of the park.” Stiles stared at Peter. “Get back here and sit down.” 

Peter clenched his fists together. He stared hard at Stiles, part of him feeling compelled to listen to the younger man, and the other part feeling humiliated for being ordered around by a boy he could be the father of. After a long, tense beat where he refused to move at all, he finally made his way back to his seat and sat down quietly.

Stiles waited until Peter was settled in his chair before he spoke again. “Now you can go. We’ll see you next Friday, on time, for dinner.” 

Peter stared at Stiles, stone-faced as he stood up once more and left without a word.

“Does anybody want seconds?” Stiles asked calmly. “Or do you guys just want dessert now?” 

“Dessert.” Erica blurted. “And maybe popcorn, if anyone has that recorded, because that was the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Derek was staring at Stiles with a heated expression, his breath quick. “I’m kind of thinking dessert, too.” He murmured, although it was clear from the look on his face that cake and pie and ice cream were the last things on his mind.

Stiles smiled. “I made two carrot cakes. They’re in the fridge.” He crooked a finger at Derek and went out to the balcony. 

There was a mad scramble from half of the pack as they darted toward the fridge, and in the chaos, Derek stood up and followed Stiles out, watching him closely. “That was incredibly insane. But it was also sexy as hell, so I think it balances out.”

“You and I have different ideas about what’s sexy.” Stiles shrugged. 

“Entirely possible.” Derek moved forward and caught both of Stiles’ hands in his own. “Apparently I have an incredible attraction to authority.”

“Yeah?” Stiles leaned in to kiss Derek. “I probably could’ve used that knowledge months ago.” 

“Hm.” Derek murmured, kissing him back and sliding his hands from Stiles’ hands to around his boyfriend’s waist. “Well, in case I ever find myself going back in time, I’ll make sure to drop you a clue.”

Stiles put his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “If you do that, don’t let me do that spell.” He shook his head. 

“If I do that, Practical Magic won’t even be available on the tv.” Derek murmured back, hugging Stiles closer. He sighed. “I hate this spell business. I hate magic.” He murmured. “I just got you, and the universe is threatening to take you away.”

“I thought we agreed to ignore that.” Stiles kissed Derek’s neck. “I’ll graduate high school, we’ll get married, I’ll go to college and you’ll come with me, and then we’ll adopt a bunch of kids after I graduate from there. It’s all worked out, right?” 

Derek closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head and giving Stiles more access. “Right.” He murmured in agreement, rubbing his hands up and down Stiles’ body.

Stiles leaned back against the wall, out of sight of the large window, and reached down to unfasten Derek’s jeans. 

A grin tugged at Derek’s lips, and he arched his hips closer to Stiles, carefully tugging the hem of his shirt up and out of the way. His free hand snuck between them and pulled open the button to Stiles’ jeans, sliding the zipper down easily a second later. He was never going to get enough of this.


	14. The Separation

Theo put on his ‘bullshit’ t-shirt and smiled at his reflection. He was elated. He knew it would take more time, but the pack accepted him and he spoke to a few people regularly. He was already set to attend Harvard in a few months, and he had decided to be a doctor. To save lives, instead of end them. 

Jackson came up behind him, peering over his boyfriend’s shoulder and into the mirror. He tugged at the t-shirt in amusement. “Only Stilinski could come up with a shirt that curses and looks pretty.” He paused. “Bet he based it off of the girls in the pack.”

“Probably.” Theo laughed, turning to kiss Jackson. “I like feeling like I belong here, you know? I mean, with the pack. And in Boston, too.” 

“Yeah.” Jackson agreed, slipping an arm around Theo’s waist. “Well, you do. I’m just glad everyone else got with the program.”

“Don’t fault them for that, I made their lives hell.” Theo smiled. “And I had fun doing it. But I’m trying to not look at it that way, anymore. Or ever again.” 

Jackson tugged a little at the shirt again, grinning. “I know. And I’m perfectly aware of why exactly you chose your particular field of study, _Doctor_ Raeken.” He teased, lifting his chin to kiss Theo once more.

“Well, I figure you’re going to manage our bank accounts.” Theo smiled. “So I just want to make sure you have a lot of money to do something with.” 

Jackson snorted. “I wouldn’t know how to do shit all with it all if it wasn’t for Finstock’s psycho ass.” He pulled back, patting Theo’s ass affectionately. “Alright, come on. We gotta move, or we’re gonna be late, and I’m not going to hear Lydia and Danny snapping at us for it.”

Theo followed Jackson out to the car, fastening his seatbelt before he sent a text to Allison and Erica, who had become good friends of his in the past few months. ‘We’re on our way over to the school.’ 

‘Awesome!’ Erica texted back. ‘We’re carpooling - we’ll be there soon, I think. I hope? Depends on how fast Boyd feels like driving.’

‘It looks like Jackson’s not concerned about speed limits today.’ Theo glanced at the speedometer on the car’s dashboard and smiled to himself, shaking his head. 

‘Jackson’s never concerned about speed limits,’ Allison texted back, adding a laughing emoji to the text. ‘His foot’s a lead weight on the accelerator.’

‘What are we doing after this?’ Theo sent the text, then decided to call Erica, instead of waiting. “Hey.” 

“Hey, there, Foxy,” Erica laughed through the phone. “I’m not sure, but I bet you there’s good food in our future.”

“Stiles said he was making at least six different things.” Theo murmured. “So yeah, I’m looking forward to that. Even though it means I have to sit still and wait for two or three hours.” 

“You’ll be fine, I promise.” Erica assured him. “I’m bringing a big ass purse, and I’m sneaking, like, ten different snacks in.”

“I love you.” Theo blurted, laughing. 

Erica grinned. “Baby, I know, but we’re both taken. It wouldn’t work between us. We’ll just have to be star-crossed.”

“This morality thing sucks.” Theo teased, glancing at Jackson to see if his boyfriend was getting pissed off. He liked to irritate him from time to time, but never so seriously that they would break up. 

Jackson was shaking his head, smirking. “Both of you suck.” He told Theo, his lips twitching.

“Well, that was kind of what I was going for.” Theo grinned. 

“Later, maybe.” Jackson shook his head.

“Is that meant for both of us?” Erica called over the line, knowing full well Jackson could hear her.

“It’s meant for my _boyfriend_ , Werewolf Barbie!” Jackson growled.

Theo reached over with his left hand, palming Jackson’s erection. “Shh.” He hung up on Erica. “Just keep driving.” 

Jackson’s eyes bulged, and his lips twitched into a grin. He sat back, adjusting himself in his seat before spreading his legs a little further apart, but he kept his eyes on the road.

Theo unfastened Jackson’s pants with one hand, freeing him from his underwear before he started stroking him. “I guess we’re going to be late.” He teased. “Oh well.” 

Jackson groaned, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “You’re gonna kill me.” He muttered, lifting his hips into Theo’s touch. “Fuck. You’re so damn good.”

Theo kept his gaze on the road as he started moving his hand faster. “I learned from the best.” 

Jackson shook, trying to keep his grip firm on the wheel. He swallowed hard. “Gonna come.” He muttered. “Real close.”

“Good.” Theo murmured. “Pull over.” 

Jackson nodded, panting heavily as he shifted gears and let the car roll to the side of the road before putting it in park.

Theo leaned down, wrapping his lips around Jackson’s erection and groaning as he took him all the way into his mouth. He loved this more than anything else they did, sexually. He got to drive Jackson crazy and thrive on it. 

Jackson’s head hit the back of the seat with a thump, his mouth falling open on a loud moan. His hand reached up and settled on the back of Theo’s head, tugging sharply at his hair. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he panted. “Fuck - Theo - fuck, _yeah_ ,” he let out another low, long groan and came.

Theo swallowed, pulling back and grabbing a napkin from the glovebox, to wipe Jackson off and tuck him back into his underwear and pants. “Feel better now?” 

Jackson exhaled heavily, slumping over. “Fuck, I love you.” He breathed, his eyes falling shut.

“I love you, too.” Theo murmured. He put his head down on Jackson’s shoulder. “I know I said it to Erica, but obviously, it means something else, with you.” 

Jackson let his head fall to the side, pressing his forehead against Theo’s. “I know.” He murmured. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t know how much it meant.”

“I was thinking about getting a kitten.” Theo blurted, then looked embarrassed. “I want to learn how to really take care of something or someone. Not just get along with people.” 

“You wanna be a cat dad?” Jackson asked, opening his eyes and staring at his boyfriend.

“Yeah. I mean, if that’s weird, then sorry for being weird, but kittens grow into cats, and cats aren’t that big. We could get a small dog, maybe. If the idea of a cat is too much.” Theo shrugged. “I just thought a kitten would be cuter.” 

Jackson shook his head, smiling. “You’re fucking adorable. You wanna be a cat dad, babe, you go right ahead and get one. We’ll take it to the vet and get it neutered and get all of its shots and everything, make sure that the little fuzzball is the happiest, healthiest cat on the planet.”

Theo smiled widely, hugging Jackson. “As soon as we’re done with this, then? Let’s just go home to Boston.” 

Jackson hugged him back, dropping a kiss against Theo’s temple. “That sounds good to me.” He murmured.

“You’d agree to anything right now, wouldn’t you?” Theo smiled. “I should ask for something ridiculous. Can we fill our pool with Jello?” 

“Sure. You’re eating your way out if you get stuck, though.” Jackson snorted. 

“You say this like you think it’s a deterrent.” Theo shook his head. “I’m a thousand years old, babe. Jello is one of the best foods I’ve ever had.” 

Jackson laughed. “My boyfriend, the Jello fiend.” He sighed and kissed Theo firmly. “Wanna sneak away after the ceremony and I can repay the favor?”

“After we eat, I think.” Theo laughed. “I’ve gotten this far, I don’t want Lydia to murder us both for not being there.” 

“I wouldn’t let her.” Jackson promised, grinning. He put the car back into gear and pulled off the shoulder, back onto the road. 

**

Lydia posed for a few pictures with her graduation cap on, even though she had already turned in her robe, after the ceremony. She took the cap off, setting it aside carefully and looking around at her friends. In another twenty-four hours, she was leaving with Danny, Jackson and Theo and going to Boston. She wasn’t sure she had ever been so nervous. 

Jackson laughed as he spotted her, throwing an arm around her shoulder and tugging her close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “There you are. Congratulations, Lyds. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Lydia hugged Jackson. “I’ll be a mess on the flight. Don’t make fun of me.” She said softly. “I’m so much closer to finding my true love, and I think that has me more on edge than anything else.” 

Jackson tightened his arm around her, sighing. “Because it’s still up in the air?” He asked. “Because it’s unknown, and it’s the not-knowing that drives you nuts?”

Lydia nodded, wide-eyed. “I haven’t changed that much in the past year.” She laughed. “I’m a little sad about missing out on Allison finding hers. It’s so - whoever they are, they’re not too far away.” 

“And I’m sure Allison’s going to call you in a panic when she finds them,” Jackson laughed. “But I think you’ve changed. You’ve definitely changed since I left. A lot of you is still the same, but… there’s a difference. You’re stronger. More confident. A little sadder.”

“Finding out that you’re a walking death omen will do that to a person.” Lydia shrugged one shoulder. “But I like being in the pack and I like knowing that I have people who care about me, not just the label on my clothes.” 

“Yeah.” Jackson murmured thoughtfully. “I do, too.” He exhaled, giving her another hug before letting her go. “You’re going to be alright. Whoever you end up finding at that museum is going to be so stupid over you, Lyds.”

“As long as they’re not stupid in general.” Lydia smiled. 

“Don’t go to a museum exhibit about mobile homes, then.” Stiles smirked. “Come on, you and Danny get first pick for food. I made a lot of stuff. We’ll be eating leftovers for - at least one day.” 

Jackson nudged Lydia gently, smiling. “Go on. I’m going to round up my Jello-obsessed boyfriend.”

Lydia gave Jackson a confused smile, but she laughed again. “Okay.” She followed Stiles into the kitchen, serving herself some grilled chicken and salad before she sat down at the table. 

Danny sat across from her, eyeing her food before he took a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. “I’m going to miss the food.” He smiled. 

“So am I, but that just means that Thanksgiving will be even better, this year.” Lydia looked around at everyone again, feeling wistful already. 

“Hey, don’t make that face.” Allison said, dropping down next to Lydia and smiling at her. “You know we’ll come for visits. Boston in the summer sounds amazing.”

“I just know that you’re going to meet your person. And very soon.” Lydia watched the red rope, coiled around one of Allison’s ankles, unwind itself as it was tugged toward the doorway of Derek’s apartment. 

Allison raised her eyebrows, looking excited and sitting up straight. “Really?” She blurted. “How soon is very soon?”

“I’m not sure.” Lydia admitted. “Your line keeps dragging toward the door, then stopping and increasing, on your end. Like the person isn’t sure they want to come here, or at the very least, introduce themselves to you.” She eyed her food, then stood up and picked up her plate. “Let’s go outside and eat.” 

Allison furrowed her brows, nodding. She stood up and grabbed her own plate, and then led the way to the balcony, pushing the door open for Lydia and holding it. 

Lydia gave Allison a grateful smile. “You said the sun would be in your eyes, didn’t you?” 

Allison paused and nodded. “‘I won’t see the color of their eyes because the sun would be in mine.’” She paraphrased. 

“So we’ll put you in a seat that faces the sun.” Lydia reasoned. “To make sure she or he comes out here to talk to you.” 

Allison smiled at her. “I love you and you’re the best.” 

Lydia grinned and set her plate down, arranging Allison’s chair so that it was in direct sunlight. She set hers up nearby, putting on a pair of sunglasses and picking up her plate, so she could finish her meal. 

Allison’s fingers twitched nervously as she ate, her gaze constantly flitting up to look at the doorway. 

Stiles walked out to the balcony a few minutes after Lydia and Allison did, and he sat on the arm of Lydia’s chair.

“Don’t do that.” Lydia protested. 

“Then get up.” Stiles shrugged, sitting down in Lydia’s chair when she moved. He tugged her down to sit on his lap. “I’m going to tell Derek to get more outdoor seats.” He glanced in through the large window as Mason opened the door to let Peter in, but he didn’t recognize the teenage girls with him. “Okay, Peter’s always been creepy, but this is especially bad.” He reached up to turn Lydia’s head toward the window. 

“You don’t think...” Lydia frowned. 

“No, i don’t even want to know, never mind think about it.” Stiles shook his head. He kept his gaze on the events inside the apartment as one of the girls sat down beside Isaac and another one scowled. 

The angry girl came outside, throwing a roll at Stiles’ head. “You call this food?” 

“And on that note, I’m going back inside.” Lydia got up, hurrying back into the apartment. 

Allison looked startled, glancing between the girl and Stiles. “What the hell?” She blurted. “What’s your problem?”

“There’s no deer meat.” The girl frowned. “You made a bunch of pasta and chicken, but no deer.” 

“Oh.” Stiles smiled. “Werewolf.” 

“Werecoyote. And I have a name. It’s Malia.” The girl huffed, folding her arms across her chest. 

“Okay, Malia.” Stiles nodded. “I didn’t know to expect you, or that you even existed, or I would have made something for you.” 

“Yeah, well, your food sucks.” Malia muttered. 

“Excuse you, the hell it does.” Allison glowered. “Stiles is the _best_ cook. Just because he didn’t make what _you_ like doesn’t mean that his food is awful.”

Malia turned toward Allison, scowling. Her expression softened. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.” She muttered. “But he should make deer for me.” 

Stiles looked from Malia to Allison. “I’m going back in.” He told Allison. “Have a good night.” 

Allison barely remembered to nod, her eyes on the dark haired girl. “Good night, Stiles.” She murmured. To Malia, she cleared her throat and said hesitantly, “Maybe… if you’re going to be around for awhile… he will.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. My biological dad told me about your pack.” Malia took Stiles’ seat when the alpha went back into the apartment. “But I said I’d only do it if Cora did it, too.” 

“Cora?” Allison asked curiously, and then blinked. “Your biological dad?” She suddenly recalled that Malia had walked in with another girl - presumably Cora - and… Peter. “Oh.” She said softly. “Peter is… who’s Cora, then?”

“My cousin. Why?” Malia turned in her seat, looking in at Cora. 

Allison’s mouth fell open. “Uh… adopted cousin, or… blood cousin? And which side of your family? And Derek, I hope to _god_ you’re hearing this conversation!”

“Blood cousin. But I'm adopted. I mean, I was adopted. To a different family.” Malia stammered. “But my - Peter wants to take care of me.” 

“Oh my god.” Allison exhaled. “That’s amazing. You’re…” She laughed softly, reaching for Malia’s hand without thinking. “Amazing…”

“What are you doing?” Malia asked, but she held Allison’s hand, anyway. 

Allison laughed, flushing red. “I have no idea.” She admitted. “But I really wanted to do it.”

“Well, so did I.” Malia smiled. “Can we go back inside, though? I don’t like it out here, it’s too noisy and someone is burning food and it smells bad.” 

Allison grinned, nodding. “Yes, definitely.” She murmured and stood up. She turned toward Malia and blinked a little, now that the sun was out of her eyes, then exhaled softly as she got a better look at the girl. “Brown eyes.” She said softly, smiling. 

“Yeah. Why?” Malia laughed. “Whatever, come on.” She grabbed Allison’s hand again and pulled her along, going back into the apartment. 

Allison couldn’t help the ridiculous smile crossing her face as she follow Malia inside the loft, willingly clinging to the other girl’s hand. 

Peter turned his head as soon as he caught the sound of his daughter’s footsteps and froze, scowling. “Of course. If there’s a Hale teenager around, an Argent has to put their hands on them.” He muttered under his breath. “Malia. Come say hello to your cousin.”

Derek straightened at Peter’s words, his head swiveling to look at the younger girl. He cleared his throat. “Hello.” He murmured. He’d heard Allison speaking to him from out on the balcony, and had all but fallen apart when he’d realized the dark-haired girl sitting next to Isaac was his baby sister. He felt overwhelmed at the knowledge that his family of two had just expanded by double.

Stiles was silent as he got up from where he had been sitting, on the couch. He circled around, behind Peter, and gripped the back of his neck. “Apologize to Allison right now.” He said quietly, his voice firm. 

Peter stiffened. “My entire family was murdered because an Argent had the gall to put their hands on my nephew.” He hissed. “Can you blame me for being especially concerned when another Argent is putting their hands on my _child_?”

“First of all, it wasn’t ‘an Argent’ who did that to you, it was a psychopath.” Stiles didn’t release his grip on Peter’s neck. “Secondly, your entire family wasn’t murdered, some of them survived and they’re in this room. Look at Malia, you idiot. Does she look like she’s in distress? Is she fighting for her life?” 

Peter was deathly silent before he spoke, his voice low. “The feelings don’t just go away that easily.” He muttered. “They’re here now, she’s here now, but there is an enormous gap of time where I was dead to the world, and still knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were dead and that Kate Argent carried out the deed. I know you think I’m an unfeeling monster, and you’re right - about the monster part. But I’m not unfeeling, I never have been, and what I can’t help but feel is an intense desire to pick up my daughter and keep her as far away as conceivably possible from a woman whose family has been a known threat to mine in the past. I can’t turn it off. I can’t make it stop.”

“You don’t know what the fuck I think.” Stiles muttered. He let go of Peter’s neck. “You have until next summer to get to know Allison as a person. I expect you to do that.” 

Peter let out a growl and jerked away from Stiles as far as he could, moving to sit in a corner away from the others.

Stiles followed Peter, crouching to look at him. “I know you fucking hate me.” He said lightly, shrugging. “I don’t care. I’m not here to accommodate you. Just do what the fuck I say for a year, and then I’m out of here and I can’t exactly control you from thousands of miles away.” 

Peter smiled tightly. “I’ll certainly be glad to see you go.” He muttered. He didn’t care that he’d technically been a part of the pack since Stiles had given him that ridiculous t-shirt. A part of him would always chafe at being expected to be a subordinate to a boy that was twenty years younger than him. Stiles was wrong in one regard, though - Peter didn’t actually hate him. He grudgingly respected the younger man… and also resented the hell out of him for setting him on fire. Again.

Stiles stood up slowly. He frowned at Peter, then walked over to Derek and kissed him. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.” He made his way around the room, offering hugs and patting the shoulders of his betas, except for Peter. He went outside and sat on the pavement, his back against the side of his Jeep as he thought about all the ways that Peter didn’t fit the criteria that Stiles had set in place. He tilted his head back against the Jeep’s door, wondering if he was missing something. Peter didn’t match the criteria, Peter couldn’t be his person. He thought about burning the notebook and forgetting he had ever been dumb enough to try to cast a spell to draw love to him. He had Derek, and that should have been enough, but the spell was always on his mind. 

“Hey!” Scott called, hurrying after Stiles and looking concerned. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to have to tell Lydia that she’s wrong, but she’s _wrong_ with all the capital letters and everything.” Stiles muttered. “You heard him in there. He’s beyond eager for me to get the fuck out of this town.” 

“Okay?” Scott looked confused. “I mean… you could turn it around on him and make him get out of town?”

Stiles smiled ruefully. “Fuck. I forgot that you don’t know. Erica, Lydia and Allison do. I figured everyone else did. You know those spells of ours? Peter’s my OTL. Allegedly. It’s supposed to be someone who won’t leave me, who wants me around all the time. Like, obsessively. He’s so fucking far removed from that.” 

Scott looked appropriately horrified. “That’s so wrong. That’s so - _unfair_. Why - I don’t understand, why Peter? How could it possibly be Peter?”

“Because my life is a cosmic joke?” Stiles guessed. “I don’t know. He’s old enough to have a daughter my age. He’s a dick. He hates me. Name it, there are millions of reasons why he doesn’t make sense. I just want to get out of here.” He glanced down at his keys as he spun the ring around on his index finger. “I mean, Allison and Isaac are happy right now, with Malia and Cora. And Boyd and Erica, and you and Hayden. It’s just me. It’s always...” He shook his head. 

“Stiles, fuck the spell!” Scott exclaimed, his hands flying out on either side of him. “If he doesn’t make sense, then it doesn’t make sense, and your spell is null and freaking void. I don’t care about any strings Lydia sees - the universe cannot possibly think it’s a good idea for you to be with… _him_. Not when you’ve got Derek!”

“I know.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t understand it, either. I think I’m just going home though, okay? I’ll be at the airport to say goodbye to everybody leaving, tomorrow night. I mean, do you want me to pick you up and drive you there?” 

“I have a better idea.” Scott smiled gently. “Why don’t I stay the night, and then we can just… do stupid shit all day before we head to the airport?”

“Can we burn my notebook? I think I want to do that.” Stiles smiled. “I might even do it right now.” 

Scott grinned. “We can throw it in a bonfire. I mean, make the bonfire first, and then throw it in.” He paused, tilting his head. “Do you think destroying it might actually end the spell?”

“I don’t care.” Stiles shrugged. He stood up and opened the door of his Jeep, climbing across the seat and getting his notebook from the glovebox. He tossed it on the ground, glancing around warily before he motioned for Scott to step back. 

Scott shuffled back, his eyes on Stiles for a moment before he looked around, his eyes catching glinting blue eyes reflecting from several floors above - the balcony outside Derek’s loft. Scott shook his head in surprise, squinting, and realized that it was Peter staring down at them with an indecipherable expression on his face. He jerked his gaze away from the former alpha and locked his gaze firmly on Stiles.

Stiles was perfectly still, his mouth set in a grim expression. He couldn’t help the bitter smirk as he thought about how he was, in a roundabout way, setting Peter on fire again as he exhaled flames onto the notebook by his feet. 

“I keep forgetting that you can do that now.” Scott sighed. “You’re gonna be like a furnace if the heat ever goes out during a really cold night.” His eyes flicked back up toward the balcony, and he relaxed a little when he saw that Peter was no longer there.

Stiles eyed Scott. “Is he still watching?” He asked quietly. 

Scott shook his head. “If he is, I can’t see him anymore. He’s gone.”

“Okay.” Stiles didn’t want to talk about how he knew, without looking, that Peter was eavesdropping. He watched the notebook crumble into ashes, then got a bottle of water from the Jeep and poured it over the flames. “Let’s go.” 

Scott nodded, his eyes on the ashes of the notebook. A wary expression was on his face before he took a deep breath and climbed into the Jeep. 

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, looking over at Scott as he started the Jeep. 

“It’s bothering me.” Scott admitted. “Why he was watching. Like… why? And why would he let you know he was watching?”

“He didn’t. Not exactly.” Stiles shook his head. “I just kind of knew. And your reaction confirmed it for me.” 

Scott drew his brows together. “What do you think it meant? Does he know about the spell? Does he know about…” he trailed off. 

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “There’s no way he knows.” He frowned, wondering if he had told Peter. “I don’t think he knows. He probably heard me.” 

“Ugh. Eavesdropper.” Scott muttered, shaking his head. “Not that it matters now.”

“Next Friday is going to be awkward as hell.” Stiles muttered. He parked in his driveway a few minutes later, getting out and taking a minute to try to clear his mind. “Thanks for coming to check on me.” 

“Of course I came to check on you, dude. You don’t need to thank me for that.” Scott murmured. “Derek would’ve done it except I beat him out the door.”

Stiles smiled to himself and texted a heart emoji to Derek. “I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about all of this.” He admitted, looking back up at Scott. “And I haven’t ever said it outright, to Derek. I’m pretty sure he knows. Lydia wouldn’t understand, and I think Erica would just tell me to suck it up and deal. Which is good advice, but... not in this case? And Allison hates Peter for a lot of valid reasons. It’s not like I can go to my dad with this.” 

“You know you can always talk to me, dude.” Scott murmured. He shifted in place a little, hearing the soft ‘ding’ from Stiles’ phone that meant he’d received a message. “I mean, seriously - nothing has ever stopped you from talking to me about anything and everything before. And that includes the time you had laryngitis and the doctor kept telling you to stick a sock in it and rest your voice.”

Stiles laughed. “I was eating popsicles for three weeks. That was the best time of my life.” He glanced down at his phone as he leaned back against the Jeep. 

Derek had replied with a simple smiling emoji, followed by a heart of his own. He texted again a moment later. ‘Tonight?’

‘Absolutely.’ Stiles replied, then shoved his phone into his pocket and walked up the steps to the front door, unlocking it and going inside. “I know we just ate, but do you want some ice cream?” 

“Like I’d ever say no to ice cream.” Scott snorted, hurrying after him. “What did he say?” He asked, his voice teasing. “Are you making sexy plans?”

“Sort of.” Stiles admitted, getting two pints of ice cream out of the fridge. He set them down on the counter, then grabbed spoons from the silverware drawer. “He’ll come over and we’re at least going to cuddle. There’s a lot more cuddling than sex. Maybe like, sixty-forty.” He laughed. “But I don’t want to talk about Derek. I can’t talk about Derek and talk about Peter at the same time, I already feel like a complete asshole, as it is.” 

Scott reached for one of the spoons, and nodded. “I understand, but you’re not an asshole. You and Derek both went into your relationship knowing that there was a possibility that you might not stay together, it’s not like he was unprepared for the idea of your OTL being here. Maybe a bit more unprepared for it being Peter.” He grimaced, then hopped up on the kitchen counter. “Talk to me, man.”

Stiles opened his pint of ice cream. “Okay.” He murmured. “Well, I feel like Peter and I understand each other in a way that the rest of you don’t get. That’s not necessarily a good thing, I know. But it explains a lot, maybe? I’ve had a couple of months to try to accept this, and I’ve spent them just trying to get him to stop being such a fucking overgrown baby about things. Maybe it’s not fair that nobody wants to sit with him at dinner or during movies, but it’s also not fair that he encourages everyone to not like him. I get the irony in me being the person saying this. I know I’ve driven people away from us because I didn’t want to risk you coming to the conclusion that I’m not all that great, as a person. And I’m not saying this to look for compliments, either. Tomorrow night, we’re going to have a very different pack dynamic, once those four leave. And I don’t know how next Friday is going to work. I don’t know if Peter will even be there, now that he’s heard a few things.” He stopped to take a bite of his ice cream, then sat back in his chair. “I want him to like me. I want someone to like me. I know I have Derek, and I know Derek likes me. But Derek’s not my person. Derek doesn’t... he didn’t want me from first sight, he doesn’t think of the human heart as his favorite shape. And also, Peter doesn’t fit the criteria. So I don’t know what any of this means. Except that next Friday, I’ll have to deal with Peter probably flirting with me, just to piss Derek off, even though he doesn’t... even though he’s not my person, either.” 

Scott silently ate his own ice cream, listening as Stiles spoke, and he sighed. “Listen… I know I haven’t been Derek’s biggest supporter, but that thing he always says about you both, that you chose each other? He’s not wrong. Maybe he didn’t want you from first sight, but… I don’t think he was in a place to want anything or anyone then, man. The first time you met, he’d just lost Laura. And… I mean, I guess I don’t really understand why his favorite shape needs to be a human heart for him to be your person, but I think it’s kind of incredible that even though he doesn’t fit half your criteria, he still fell for you. I bet you if Peter shows up to dinner next week and harasses you at all, Derek’s probably gonna fight for you.” He took another bite of his cream, frowning as he swallowed. “And about Peter… I know Lydia says she sees red strands connecting people together, and that she probably told you she’d seen them between you and Peter, but… why does it have to mean that he’s your OTL? Maybe it just means he’s always going to be an interfering asshole in your life? I mean, you are dating his nephew, you know?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t work like that.” Stiles shook his head. “Lydia can’t see every connection, just the romantic ones. The forever ones. I just think that in my case, it’s defective. But I’m also thinking I might break up with Derek. It sounds so stupid, I know it does, but I think I’m being selfish. I think there are a few things that he and I just haven’t spoken about, that we’re going to have to. And tonight is probably the best time.” 

“Oh, man.” Scott said softly. “I’m sorry, dude. I know you’re crazy about him.”

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed. “And it sucks for me, but I just feel like we’re only putting off the inevitable. I kept talking about him marrying me and us adopting kids, and he agreed to all of it. You’d think that would be good, but it’s not. We haven’t even been together for a year, and just because things aren’t terrible for him, that doesn’t mean that he should be making life plans with me.” 

“Maybe. But if he really wanted it - still wants it, I mean, because I’m pretty sure he does - then I don’t think I can really blame him for making those plans. He hasn’t had much of a life - I kinda took it as a good sign that he wants one with you.” Scott murmured. 

“I know.” Stiles nodded, taking another bite of his ice cream. It was already starting to melt, and he stirred his spoon around in it, lost in thought. “I’m kind of terrified.” 

“I know.” Scott said softly, and handed his pint of ice cream over to Stiles, wrapping an arm around him. “That’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

**

A few hours later, Stiles tried to focus on whatever was on tv, but he just kept changing the channel impatiently as he waited for Derek. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted to believe that it was from eating so much ice cream, but he knew better. 

Derek knocked on the door, and then opened it to peer inside. He caught sight of his boyfriend and started to smile, only faltering when he caught the expression on Stiles’ face. “Hi.” He said softly, closing the door behind him before making his way toward Stiles. 

“Hey.” Stiles turned toward Derek as he picked up the remote, hitting the power button to shut the tv off. “This sucks.” He muttered. “It’s going to suck. I’m so sorry.” 

Derek gazed at him, and then exhaled softly, nodding. He sat down, reaching his arm out to hug him. “It’s okay.” He mumbled. “I mean, it’s not. But… it will be.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek. “I want you to be happy.” He lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes. “And I would love if that was with me, and I know that you are, it’s not that. It’s just that I think there’s someone else out there for you. I’m not going to resort to old habits and say someone better than me, but different from me.” 

“You already know I think there’s no one better than you.” Derek smiled sadly, reaching up with one hand to clutch both of Stiles’ hands. He leaned forward, pressing his head gently against the other man’s. “I’ve never been happier than I have been since I’ve been with you. And maybe there is someone I’m meant to be with in my future, but right now… you’re the only person I can imagine forever with. And that’s… that’s going to be really hard to get over.” His eyes flicked up so he could look at Stiles. “You’re going to be hard to get over.”

“I know I’m doing the right thing.” Stiles snorted. “Because it fucking hurts and that just proves a few things to me. I understand if you don’t want me to come over for awhile. I can have pack meetings here, maybe. Or somewhere else. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I know that probably sounds like a lie, given the circumstances. I want to say ‘maybe one day’, but I don’t think that’s going to help anything. I don’t want to stop talking to you. I don’t know what else to say, I’ve never had to do this before.” 

“Stiles, stop.” Derek said gently. “Do you feel how tightly I’m holding onto you? Do you hear how I’m speaking? I don’t want to lose you anymore than I already will. I don’t want to stop talking to you, I don’t want to avoid you, I just… I know we’re not meant to be together. I just held out the hope that maybe… maybe we were strong enough to change fate. Maybe we could bend it to our will, and then… we could stay together, regardless of what anything or anyone says.” He turned so that he could face Stiles, reaching up with both hands to cup his face. “You’ve made me so happy. Just being around you made me so… much more like I used to be. Before the fire. And you were already doing that before we were together. I’m jealous… that he’ll have this. That he’ll have you.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean, if he ever gets his head out of his ass first. You’re meant to be with someone that’ll cherish you and love you for being exactly who you are. I do. I just… wish it could be me.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up. “Then _maybe one day_.” He remarked, nodding. He laughed sadly. “I’m not giving you an order as your alpha, but I’m making a suggestion.” He rubbed Derek’s forearms. “When everyone goes to Boston tomorrow, go with them. You don’t have to be there forever or even a whole week. I’d still like to see you on Friday, for dinner. But I think a few days apart will help us both. And if we’re in the same town, I don’t think I can stay true to what I’m trying to do, here. It’ll be good for you to get away, distract yourself by helping to unpack boxes.” He shrugged. “Whatever you need to do. If that’s not going to Boston, but doing something else, that’s fine, too. I just thought, maybe other pack being around would be good for you.” 

Derek nodded. “I’ll think about it.” He murmured. “For now, do you… mind at all, if we just…” He leaned back against the couch, tugging Stiles with him and wrapping his arms solidly around the other man’s shoulders.

“Not even a little bit. I mean, I don’t mind.” Stiles said quickly, worried that Derek would misunderstand him. He put his arms around Derek once more, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. “I found a job.” He murmured. “It’s probably insane, but the guy that was maintaining the lawns for the schools was pretty old and he died, so I offered to do it. They’re paying me a lot more money than I expected. I think I’m going to get another job too, though. I’m not even sure what school I’ll end up at, after I graduate. But I want to have enough money saved up before I get there.” 

Derek nodded, burying his nose in Stiles’ hair. “That’s understandable.” He murmured, rubbing Stiles’ back gently. “You’re probably going to have more than enough by the time you actually end up there.” He kept his voice low and quiet, like raising it would somehow break the moment between them. “And… let’s be honest, you’ve done more insane things in the past.”

“Yeah, like deliberately antagonizing you.” Stiles agreed, sighing. “Someone else can be good for you, you know? I mean, if they’re not, I’ll probably have to kill them.” He didn’t bother trying to pretend he was joking. 

“I expect you to.” Derek replied seriously. “Given that I’ve shown an inability to do that for myself in the past, I think I need you to, actually.”

Stiles smiled. “I’m sure that Erica and Boyd will take care of that while I'm gone, if you stay here. I’d say Isaac, but he’s an apathetic bastard.” Derek’s earlier words gave him pause, and he looked up at his ex-boyfriend. “So you do know, then? I guess how long you’ve known doesn’t matter. But I’m curious.” 

Derek tapped at his ear and shrugged a shoulder, giving Stiles a small smile. “He’s not the only one that heard what you and Scott were talking about. It was… a lot less clear to me because of the distance, but… I still heard.” He sighed. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I promise.”

“Shit.” Stiles muttered. “So the whole pack probably knows. Except for Liam and Mason.” 

Derek patted Stiles’ back gently. “I told them not to open their mouths. Honestly, if they judged you for this, it would be like judging a bird for molting its feathers.”

“Thanks. At least now I know to expect all kinds of awkward, on Monday.” Stiles bit his lip. “I don’t know what to do about it, except just ignore it. I’m still pretty sure it’s a fluke, anyway. Maybe it worked out for everyone else, but it’s just not going to, for me? Maybe I don’t want it to.” 

Derek smiled faintly. “If it doesn’t, and I still haven’t found whoever I’m… ‘destined’ to be with, promise me you’ll call me first.”

“There’s nobody else I would want to call.” Stiles nodded. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next year, honestly. I’m freaked out.” 

“You’ll make it.” Derek assured him. “Out of the entire pack, Stiles, if there’s anyone who could, it’s you.” He paused. “Well, you and Lydia, but definitely you.”

“That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Stiles said quietly. “I know you’re interested in her. I’m not even mad about it, or anything.” 

Derek blinked. “Huh?”

“Derek, you like Lydia.” Stiles said patiently. “This really escaped your attention?” 

Derek stared back at him, raising his eyebrows. “Uh… how do you figure?”

“Dude.” Stiles snorted. “Okay, when we were getting ready to do that spell in the first place, you were staring at Lydia through the window. You were talking a few months ago about Harry and Hermione and you don’t see a correlation? There have been a lot of other moments, but those were sort of the bookends, for me.” 

“I don’t remember that. Staring at her, I mean.” Derek frowned. “And… I barely know her. Or I don’t talk to her, anyway. She always seems kind of disdainful of me when she sees me. Or speaks to me.”

“She’s like that with everyone, first of all.” Stiles laughed. “And secondly, she tends to be extra bitchy around people who make her nervous. You do have a habit of that.” 

Derek was silent for a little bit, scratching at the back of his head. He looked at Stiles sheepishly. “I thought I was getting better at not doing that.”

“You have been.” Stiles assured him. “But I think Lydia’s real problem isn’t you, it’s Peter. And the fact that she’s known for awhile, about the whole... thing.” 

Derek grimaced. “I can see how that would grate on her nerves. I haven’t exactly been the kindest to her in the past, though. I don’t know, Stiles.” He shook his head. 

“Go to Boston. Sit with her. Talk.” Stiles took a deep breath. “See what happens.” 

“But what about you?” Derek asked softly, his eyes gentle. 

Since Derek already knew, there was no point in treating Peter like he was Voldemort and refusing to say his name, Stiles reasoned. “Lydia says that the spell conditions I added have made a difference, and Peter’s not going to want me for a long time. If he ever does. I guess I’ll just be single and use my free time to take care of the pack or for work, or homework. College applications. Talking to my dad. Whatever else.” 

Derek nodded, looking sad. He lifted Stiles’ hand and clutched it gently, kissing the back of it. “I’m going to miss this. Between us. I know not much is going to change, but… enough of it will.”

“I’m still going to hug you all the time, though.” Stiles murmured. “Everybody else can fuck off, if they don’t like that.” 

“I’d really enjoy that.” Derek admitted, smiling a little. 

**

Stiles hugged Lydia, Jackson and Danny, then turned toward Theo, feigning irritation. “I guess I have to hug you, too.” He laughed when Theo practically lunged at him for a hug. “Okay.” He patted the nogitsune’s back, stepping back and looking at Derek. He was grateful that he had school the next day, because it would prevent him from going home and getting drunk to deal with his frustration. 

Derek swallowed roughly, staring back at Stiles. He reached out a hand to him. “I’ll see you when I get back.” He said softly.

Stiles hugged Derek. “Take your time, but call or text me, if you need to.” He murmured. “Okay?” 

Derek hugged him back tightly, breathing his scent deeply. “Okay. And same goes.” He pulled back a little to look at Stiles. “Be safe.”

“You, too.” Stiles nodded. He stepped back, eyeing the other pack members. “All right, one more goodbye and then we need to go.” 

Allison glanced at him, and then lunged forward to hug Lydia tightly. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” She promised softly.

Scott reached out to clap a hand on Danny’s shoulder with a smile, and then did the same to Theo. “Don’t be strangers, guys. I mean… you know. Talk to us.”

“I will.” Theo promised, giving Scott a hesitant smile. 

Lydia spoke softly to Allison, even though the werewolves could hear her. “I expect you to be busy all summer, getting to know Malia.” 

Allison’s lips twitched up. “I won’t disappoint you.” She murmured.

Scott sent Theo a small smile back. “Take care, dude.”

Jackson wrapped his arm around his boyfriend, then threw a hand out to shake Stiles’ hand. “Until next time, man.”

“Yeah. Thanksgiving.” Stiles smiled. “Now get out of here before I start crying.” 

Allison stepped closer to Stiles’ side and leaned against him, swallowing hard. Her eyes were on her friends, and she tried for a small smile. “Bye, guys.” She said softly.

Scott nodded, twisting his fingers together, his eyes flitting toward Derek, and then again to Stiles. “See ya.”

Jackson nodded and turned, taking Theo with him.

Derek’s eyes lingered on Stiles as he followed them, looking over his shoulder until he couldn’t anymore.

“Oh my god.” Stiles whispered, blinking a few times. “Okay, well... we need to get back.” He took a deep breath and turned, walking toward the exit to the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was NOT easy to write. Sterek fans probably hate us for it. Fans of Derek/Lydia, your payoff will be in the next chapter.


	15. The Plea

Lydia had to stand on the tips of her toes to reach the overhead compartment, above her seat. She had decided not to wear heels on the flight, but she regretted it. “Well, I’m driving, next time.” She muttered. “This is ridiculous.” 

Derek opened the compartment for her without a word, and then looked at her silently and expectantly for further instruction. 

Lydia gave Derek a grateful smile and handed her carry-on bag to him. “Thank you.” Her smile turned concerned. “Are you okay?” 

Derek swallowed roughly, looking at her. He started to speak, and then let out a laugh, sounding like he was about to cry instead. “I know we’re not together anymore. But it hasn’t even been a day, and I already miss him.” He admitted.

“You’ll hear from him again when we land.” Lydia murmured. “And probably at least four times a day, after that.” 

Derek rubbed a hand over his mouth, lifting the carry-on and putting it inside the compartment before shutting it securely. “... It’ll probably be more than that.” He huffed out a laugh before looking at her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m nervous.” Lydia blurted. “Beacon Hills is small and being one of the more intelligent people in the room was common for me. That sounds vain, but it’s true, and now I’m going to a city, to a college known for accepting students with my aptitude for math and science. I’m looking forward to being able to take classes where I won’t have to correct my teachers, but I’m dreading the moment when I get something wrong.” 

Derek smiled crookedly at her. “Everyone gets things wrong.” He told her. “Some people get things wrong at a… frequent and alarming rate.” He gestured at himself in self-deprecation. “If you let one potential mistake that might have at least a fifty percent chance of happening make you dread MIT, you’re not the Lydia Martin I thought you were.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s not like they’re going to hit you with a ruler if you do get an answer wrong. And it’s not like they’ll bustle you out of the school, either. Your intelligence is because you pushed yourself to learn more, applied logic when it was necessary, and thought outside of the box for when logic couldn’t be applied.”

Lydia smiled back. “Your mistakes were not your mistakes, they were the fault of someone else.” She sat down, looking out the window at the tarmac before she turned back toward Derek. “It’s not just that. I’m a little wary about meeting my ‘one true love.’” She laughed. “I feel like such a contradiction. I rely on facts and tangible proof of things, but I’m such a mess when it comes to fairy tales and romance.” 

“I’m actually a little surprised that you’re worried.” Derek told her, leaning back in his seat and looking up at the panel above him. “The spell was your idea, you seemed very confident about it.”

“Well, I was. I am.” Lydia nodded. “But being confident that something worked doesn’t mean I’m confident that it did what I want it to do.” She hesitated. “I actually sort of expected that Stiles would be the one... it’s been upsetting me, that he’s not. But I’m at least not as upset as he must be.” 

“Yeah.” Derek said softly, then shook his head, putting a hand over his face. “Of all the people I could lose him to.” He muttered.

“But you haven’t.” Lydia pointed out. “He cares a lot about you and nobody can change that. Hopefully, Peter will stop being a complete idiot and realize how fortunate he is, though I expect that’s going to take years.” 

“Expecting Peter to act like a normal, grateful person is asking quite a lot.” Derek told her, huffing out another small laugh.

“I won’t argue with you on that.” Lydia smiled. “I’m glad you came with us. Jackson and I are friendly enough, but he’ll be busy with Theo and Danny, and I don’t want to intrude. Being an outsider is new to me.” 

Derek smiled crookedly. “I hardly think you’re going to remain an outsider.” He told her. “It was a difficult decision to make. But I’m glad I came, too. At the very least, I can make sure you all get settled in properly.”

“We should just travel around the city, while you’re here.” Lydia suggested. “I’m not worried about unpacking, I’ll have all summer for that, and the guys have a lot of stuff taken care of, now. I just want to get to know the neighborhood.” 

“Fair enough.” Derek nodded. “I’ve never been to Boston. It might be nice to look around the city and see what’s here.”

Lydia fastened her seatbelt when the flight attendant gave the instruction for it. She turned her head to look at Derek again. “You live in New York for awhile, didn’t you?” 

“After the fire.” Derek nodded. “Laura and I… we weren’t sure if Kate would be coming back to finish the job. We left our information at the hospital with a nurse for Peter so that they’d still be able to contact us, and then we left.”

“Did you like it there?” Lydia hesitated. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to. I just thought we could talk, but I understand if you would rather not.” 

Derek shook his head. “It’s alright. New York was…” He furrowed his brows, thinking. “Hard. Difficult to live in, work in… We’d grown up in the Preserve, and leaving for New York was like a slap to the face. It was a smart decision, it was just different. Did we stay in a small town where everyone knew us, and where the woman that murdered our family could easily finish us off, or did we decide to get lost in a city of over eight million people? There weren’t any established packs in the city, so there weren’t really any territories to have to defend so… we felt like we could relax a little. Any other threats, we could take care of easily, but… hunters, for once, was something we didn’t need to worry about too much.”

“Hmm.” Lydia didn’t know what else to say and she felt like she had touched on a subject that was best left alone. 

Derek glanced at her, smiling faintly. “You can ask if you’re curious. Whatever you like. I told Stiles that my family deserves to be remembered, and I’m… doing my best to hold onto that. It’s the least I can do for them.”

“Maybe it would be better if I told you something, instead of asked?” Lydia murmured. “Laura babysat me a few times. I have a feeling you didn’t know that.” 

Derek shook his head. “I didn’t ask. I knew she babysat, but she never mentioned who. I was never sure if she thought I would go to them and weasel in on her business.” He laughed.

Lydia grinned. “She encouraged me to study. I think it was because I was quiet when I was reading, but I convinced her to braid my hair if I got my homework done before she left.” 

Derek’s lips twitched. “Sounds about right.” He murmured. “She preferred the quieter ones, because it let her be as loud as she wanted.” He rolled his eyes. “Which is why she usually steamrolled me.”

“She introduced me to The Ramones.” Lydia laughed. “I miss her, sometimes.” 

Derek hummed, nodding. “I miss her all the time. She gave me a kick in the ass that I really needed to go to college in New York. I didn’t finish.”

“What were you majoring in?” Lydia demanded, intrigued. 

Derek eyed her for a moment, and then said, “Architecture.” 

“That’s fascinating.” Lydia murmured, no trace of mocking in her tone. “Drawing and mathematics. I’m good at both.” 

Derek looked down, feeling a little embarrassed. “I, uh… I’m out of practice. I’m probably not very good anymore.”

“You’ll have time.” Lydia tilted her head. “You’ll at least have the summer. You should look into taking classes somewhere. If not in California, then out here with us.” 

Derek gazed at her thoughtfully. “I’ll think on it.” He murmured, nodding.

Lydia smiled. “Good.” She nodded. “We have five bedrooms at our place, just in case anyone wants to visit, and only three of them are claimed, right now. You could take a fourth one.” 

Derek smiled at her. “Thank you.” He murmured. “It would be much nicer than staying the night in a hotel.” His nose twitched inadvertently.

Lydia giggled, startled by the thought that Derek was cute. She didn’t normally think of guys that way, unless they were a lot younger than her. The word she tended to use, in association with someone she was attracted to, was ‘hot.’ “We wouldn’t have subjected you to that.” 

Derek grinned. “That’s very good to know.”

“What else don’t I know about you?” Lydia looked curious. 

Raising an eyebrow, Derek tilted his head. “I’m not really sure off the top of my head. I mean… I used to play baseball and basketball for Beacon Hills High when I was there. And I used to work at the grocery store as a bag boy because my mom didn’t want me to get lazy and spoiled. I lasted about a year.”

“What position in baseball?” Lydia had planned to read on the flight, but this conversation was better.

Derek shifted a little, surprised - pleasantly surprised - by her interest. “Infield, as a second baseman.” He murmured. “I would have kept playing, except…” he trailed off and looked shifty. “Uh, well, being a werewolf gives you an unfair advantage in certain things.” His eyes tracked over toward Jackson. “As you know. And… well, putting it simply, I got busted by my mom.”

“Talia Hale sounds like someone I would have liked to know.” Lydia grinned. 

Derek eyed her sideways, then laughed quietly. “Yeah, you would have gotten along with her pretty well.”

**

Lydia stood in the Museum of Fine Arts, the next afternoon. She stopped in front of a Renoir painting, her hands clasped together as she admired the woman’s dress and the way that she and her dance partner seemed to only have regard for one another. She felt a phantom tug at her side, and she turned to look around. The red rope that had been coiled around her waist so many times was now pulled taut, and she followed the line with her eyes, looking up to see Derek. 

Derek’s eyes trailed over the paintings and sculptures in the room, quietly fascinated. Art had always appealed to him, how it could take something plain and make it beautiful, how he could see the artist’s emotions in the strokes. He had more of a chance to appreciate it now than he had before. He kept walking and studying, looking forward every so often until he spotted Lydia and smiled at her. “Hi.”

Lydia stared blankly for a few more seconds, then pressed her lips together, suddenly nervous. She wasn’t so sure that Derek would be receptive to what was happening, since he had just broken up with Stiles two days earlier. “I expected music to start, out of nowhere. A string quartet, maybe. Or something by Damien Rice.” 

Derek tilted his head, studying her when it suddenly occurred to him what she meant. A startled expression crossed his face, followed by dawning realization. His head fell back, and he stared up at the ceiling, letting out a wry laugh. “Damn him.” He muttered. “He must’ve known.”

Lydia thought over the past few months, then nodded to herself. “Stiles broke up with you and convinced you to come here, didn’t he? That asshole.” She smiled. 

“He… ‘suggested’ that I come here.” Derek confirmed. “Coincidentally after we broke up.” He gazed at her warily for a moment, an uncertain expression on his face. “Ask me.”

Lydia nodded again, feeling dazed. “What’s your favorite holiday?” 

“St. Patrick’s Day. Part of my mother’s family was from Ireland. Half of them were Catholic, and the other half were pagan.” His lips twitched. “It made for a lot of Irish pride during family reunions, and a lot of drunken arguments on top of that.”

“Do you also drink when you go bowling?” Lydia smiled. “Because that was on my list. You have to like it. Oh. Bowling, not being drunk.” 

Derek looked amused. “I do. Bowl. Badly, but I do. But no, I don’t drink then.”

Lydia laughed, but she glanced back at the painting, smiling to herself again before she looked at Derek. “I don’t expect you to be completely over Stiles anytime soon. I’d like it if we could be friends before we move forward. If we move forward.” 

“One of my concerns about… Stiles discussing you with me,” Derek began, “was that… I felt like I didn’t know you. I’ve done some things to you in the past, and those don’t exactly lead to a good relationship of any kind.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “I’d like to get to know you. To… be friends.”

“I used to treat Jackson like a bracelet.” Lydia murmured. “I cared about him, but I pretended not to. And he did the same to me. We’re good friends, now. You never actually harmed me. You didn’t trust me, but you didn’t know me. If you take a few more days and decide to stay, it would be easier for us to communicate. But there are a lot of ways we can still talk, if you don’t.” 

Derek rubbed a hand over his chin, thinking quietly. He knew he had approval from the alpha to stay as long as he needed to. He’d initially been planning to stay long enough to help everyone unpack before heading back to Beacon Hills and sitting miserably in his loft, ruminating over his relationship with Stiles. But if Stiles had seen a fascination of Lydia in Derek, and had potentially known about the requirements of her spell, enough to know that he fit the bill… he owed it to himself to at least try and get to know her. And at the very least, he could communicate by Skype to sit in on the pack meeting, even if he couldn’t be there for dinner itself. He looked back at Lydia thoughtfully. “I’ll stay. At least for another week more than I had planned. If I decide to stay longer, I’ll have to head back to Beacon Hills at some point to get more of my things, but… then obviously, I’ll be back.”

“Who is your favorite artist?” Lydia asked, glancing at his hand and wondering if she should reach for it, or if it was too soon. “It’s not anything on my list, I’m just curious.” 

Derek hummed. “I like landscape paintings a lot. John Constable is one of my favorites. But otherwise, I’m fond of van Gogh.” His head tilted, and he glanced back at her, his own hand twitching. Uncertainly, he crooked his arm at the elbow and offered it to her. “Um… Théodore Rousseau. Paul Cézanne.” He cleared his throat. “And you?”

“I like Renoir.” Lydia gestured to the painting she had been studying intently. “Rockwell. And Ansel Adams.” 

Derek looked up at the painting, slowly lowering his arm. “I like Ansel Adams, too.” He murmured. “I wonder if he has anything on display here.”

“Let’s find out.” Lydia put her hand in the crook of Derek’s arm, walking toward a room with some photographed images in it. She didn’t see anything that looked at all like Ansel Adams’ work, but she admired the pictures that were displayed. 

Derek tried his best to focus on the photographs around them, but his gaze kept drifting toward Lydia instead, wanting to see what her reaction toward the photographs were. 

Lydia laughed, looking up at Derek. “I can practically feel you watching me, in case you weren’t aware.” She smiled, looking back at the picture in front of her. “These aren’t as good as others I’ve seen. It seems like they’re more inclined to showcase locals who are renowned.” She unzipped her purse and started looking for something. She held her phone up to show Derek. “Magritte. He’s another favorite of mine. And I like Thomas Kinkade.” 

Derek peered at her phone, looking thoughtfully at the images. “I never really understood Magritte. But Kinkade… I’ve always enjoyed his winter scenes. They felt… they reminded me of home.”

Lydia grinned. “That was his intent.” She nodded. “I read that he painted lights on in all of his windows because his home was always dark and didn’t ever feel welcoming, in his childhood. He wanted to evoke the feeling that he didn’t get.” She stopped short of saying that Kinkade’s work reminded her of Derek, busying herself with putting her phone back into her purse. 

Derek’s eyes softened. “I never knew that.” He murmured. He looked around at the photographs surrounding them, and then looked at Lydia. “Do you want to move on?”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, if you don’t mind.” 

Derek smiled faintly. “I don’t mind.” He looked around for the exit, and led her into the next room.

**

On Friday, everyone else had finished their school year. Stiles made a salad, tea and lemonade. He knew it wasn’t the kind of meal that the pack had probably gotten used to, but he didn’t feel like doing more than the bare minimum. He had to mow all of the school lawns that weekend, and he was going to start working at the video store. He was relieved that he would be busy, because the entire summer looked bleak and he missed Derek. 

Several of the other packmates milled around him, helping out where they could. Allison came up behind Stiles and picked up the plates to set the table, smiling gently at him. She briefly pressed her cheek to his shoulder with a sigh before pulling away. She knew how he was feeling and she absolutely understood. 

Stiles checked his watch, then connected to Skype on the tv. He was glad to see that Isaac and Cora were getting along so well, and he was looking forward to Scott having Hayden around, even though his best friend had tunnel vision when he got around someone he was interested in. 

The others took that as a cue to crowd into the room, getting settled in their favorite seats and preparing for dinner. Isaac reached for the plates of food that Stiles had made, taking them out to the table and giving Stiles a brief salute before sitting down.

Stiles laughed as he stood up behind the couch, leaning against the back of it as he waited for their Boston pack members to answer his call. He ruffled Erica’s hair, just because he could, and swatted Boyd’s hands away when the werewolf tried to stop him. 

Erica snorted, tugging the strands of her hair back into place and playfully smacking at both Stiles and Boyd’s hands, shaking her head. 

Scott squeezed in as close as he could, in order to be able to enjoy dinner and see their friends on the screen, and then blinked, looking up when the door opened and Peter stepped inside.

Peter froze when he sensed he was being watched, and then straightened, a cool expression on his face. He glared at Scott, then inclined his head at Stiles.

Stiles nodded back at Peter, then turned his attention to the tv again. “Hey!” He called out, grinning at Derek and Lydia. He gave Derek a knowing wink when he saw how close the two were sitting. 

Derek ducked his head, flushing. “It’s good to see you.” He said instead, lifting his head up with a tiny smile.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Stiles murmured. He had planned to talk about at least twenty different things, but Peter’s presence made Stiles’ mind go blank. He smiled sheepishly. 

Peter took a seat at the far end of the table, his eyes on the screen with the mildest sense of interest he could manage.

Jackson lifted a hand and waved at them. “Yo. Hey, what did you make, Stilinski?”

“Just a salad.” Stiles admitted. “But I made tea and lemonade, too. I didn’t feel like doing a whole lot tonight. I have to work all weekend.” 

Derek smiled softly at Stiles. “Just… don’t work yourself to death, okay?” He requested. “We’d kind of like you to still be alive and well when we see you next.”

“Oh, I’m going to be the biggest slacker, ever.” Stiles laughed. “Mowing the school lawns is just once a week, and I don’t have to do them all on the same day. The video store is going to be easy, too. Nobody even rents anymore. I can just sit there and watch movies the whole time.” 

“Best job ever!” Scott crowed, grinning widely. 

Erica stared at him, squinting. “You say that about the clinic.”

“Because I get to play with baby animals. This sounds like the best job, too, though.” Scott nodded.

Stiles laughed. “Scott’s just excited because his ‘twu wuv’ is coming here next week.” He teased his best friend. “And I’m glad I’ll be busy, so they can’t make me sick.” 

Scott stuck his tongue out at Stiles, but couldn’t help the ridiculous smile on his face. “I’m so freaking glad she’s going to be here.” He blurted. “I’ve missed her a lot, I can’t wait to see her.”

“We know, Scott.” Allison murmured, looking amused. She leaned forward, peering at Lydia with a grin. “How are you finding everything in Boston? Any favorite spots yet?”

“I’m really fond of the art museum I went to, the other day.” Lydia grinned. 

Allison’s eyes went wide. “Yeah? Find anything interesting?” Her eyes darted toward Derek, sitting next to Lydia, and they bulged a little when Derek’s ears went red, and he looked down at his meal.

“A few things.” Lydia nodded. She reached for Derek’s hand. 

Derek let his palm rest against Lydia’s, threading their fingers together gently. He looked up tentatively, unsure of what the rest of the pack’s reaction would be - and just plain scared of Stiles’ reaction.

Allison’s eyes dropped to their hands, and then she turned her head to look at Stiles worriedly before blurting, “That’s amazing. I wish you were here so I could hug you!”

Stiles felt conflicted. He was happy for Derek and Lydia, and he had pushed Derek to go to Boston because he knew, deep down, that they belonged together. But six days earlier, he had been the one holding Derek’s hand and thinking about the future with him. He forced a smile, knowing that everyone would see right through him, but refusing to do anything else. 

Slowly, the others took Stiles’ smile, however forced, as a sign to congratulate Derek and Lydia on finding each other.

Scott reached over and grabbed Stiles’ hand, squeezing it tightly.

Peter watched his nephew and the banshee on the screen for a long moment, before slowly turning his head to look at Stiles. There was the hint of a deep frown teasing at the edges of his lips, but he didn’t say a single word to either Derek or Stiles.

“Thank you.” Derek said softly. “But we’re… still getting to know each other.” He glanced at Lydia, his eyes soft. “Getting to be real friends first.”

Lydia nodded back at Derek, giving him a reassuring smile. 

Stiles engaged everyone in conversation for the next hour. Ordinarily, the pack would watch a movie, but he promised to watch two next week. He was more angry that everyone was fine with him breaking tradition, than he was upset that Derek had already moved on, whether he knew it or not. When Stiles had told Derek to go to Boston, he figured Derek would stay a week or two and _then_ end up with Lydia. He hadn’t expected it to be so fast, and if he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t have cared at all. He was happy for Derek and Lydia. But knowing that Peter knew everything now, and had continued to ignore him, hurt like hell. He hurried through cleaning up, escaping for the safety of his Jeep as soon as he was done. 

Peter, as he had been months ago, was waiting at the Jeep, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. The frown that had barely been there earlier had surfaced, taking over his face, and he was staring at Stiles like he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

Stiles sighed, stopping a few feet away from Peter. “I’m not running off to put some crazy plan into action.” He shook his head. “You can go home.” 

“That wasn’t what I came out here for.” Peter shook his own head. “Don’t let my nephew upset you. Fate is fickle, and unfortunately, he’s as susceptible to it as anyone else. If the universe believes he belongs to Lydia Martin… well, it’s foolish, is all. He was obviously happy with you.”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus christ, you don’t know _anything_ , do you? Could you just get away from my Jeep? I need to get home. I have things I have to do, tomorrow. And like, the rest of my life. So.” He gestured for Peter to move. 

Peter moved away, stepping back from the Jeep and furrowing his brows together as he tried to understand what he’d said that was wrong. Clearly, as far as he could see, the alpha was upset that Derek had moved on so quickly, and to one of his best friends besides. What had he said that was so incorrect?

Stiles got into the Jeep, slamming the door shut and driving off. He turned his radio up as loud as it would go, then remembered that Peter was responsible for making sure he had one that worked, so he turned it off and screamed in frustration. Getting home didn’t take long, probably because he was going over the speed limit, and he swore at himself as he made his way into the house. 

John looked up, concerned, as his son stormed in. “Hey, kiddo.” He greeted worriedly. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you, but I’m telling you in a vague way.” Stiles warned, sitting down. He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and trying to center himself. “Okay. Last year, a few of us cast spells, sort of as a precaution, but also not? It was a true love spell.” He frowned. “And they’re specific, you know? You come up with what you want in a person and - Derek didn’t fit my list. We didn’t care, but then I did, because I thought he was settling for me. Happy, but... could’ve been happier with Lydia. I saw her list, he matched everything on it, I wasn’t going to get in the way.” He sighed. “The person that matches what I wrote... it’s a guy. And he doesn’t want me. Before I even knew it was him, I was frustrated because Lydia, Allison and Erica did know who it was, and I told them not to tell me. But the only way they could have known is if he was someone I’m around all the time and if it was already time for us to connect. Lydia can see connections. Anyway, I changed some stuff, to make it take longer. Or even never happen. That was before I broke up with Derek. I thought if I pushed my true love away, I could keep Derek. And then last week, I realized I was doing the wrong thing, even though my true love isn’t the least bit interested in me. That’s no reason to keep Derek so close. So I let him go. I told him to go spend time with Lydia. I told him he liked her. I wasn’t making it up, he’s always looking at her, the way I used to. They’re already connected. Like puzzle pieces. My person knows he’s my person, and he’s just been ignoring me. He, uh, he tried to tell me tonight that Derek’s dumb for moving on, and I told him to fuck off. Basically.” He bit his lip, then admitted the thing he hadn’t been able to say, in front of anyone else. “I didn’t want to like him. But the more I think about it, the more I know that it makes sense. And I do like him. I think if he could ever like me back, it would be amazing. But I screwed myself over by making it _impossible_ \- I mean, one of the things I added was that the Cubs would have to win the World Series. It’s been a hundred and four years since they did that. I thought I was protecting my relationship with Derek. All I’ve done is make sure I’ll never be happy.” He gulped, ducking his head and sniffling. “And I can’t talk to anyone else about this because nobody else would understand, except for you.” 

“Aw, kid.” John breathed out, moving toward his son. He knelt down in front of him, gazing at him with gentle eyes. “I know you were happy with Derek, Stiles. And I know you could probably be happy with this other person, because you know what you like best, and if he matches even one thing on that spell… list… thing, then he’s yours.” He was silent for a second, and then sighed again. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but whenever you have the slightest potential for happiness, you get this idea in your head that… I don’t know, that maybe you think it’s not for you, or that the person your happiness is directed towards could do better, that they’re settling. You sabotage yourself. Letting Derek go. Adding additional conditions to your list.” He tilted his head a little to the side. “Snapping at him when he was maybe trying to make you feel better. Maybe he’s been ignoring you because he doesn’t know how to feel about you being it for him. Maybe he doesn’t even know that he’s been ignoring you. Maybe he’s just been trying to come to terms with things and didn’t realize that it seemed like he was avoiding you. Until tonight, when he most definitely was not avoiding you.” He rubbed Stiles’ back gently. “I’m sorry this happened, Stiles. You know I want you to be happy, and I don’t care who makes it happen. I say do another spell or something. Add more conditions in favor of you and your guy ending up together sooner, or tear the conditions off, or draw a line through them and perform the spell again.”

Stiles smiled sadly. “No criticism of me messing with forces I don’t understand?” He didn’t want to admit that his dad was right, that he practically ran full-speed from joyous moments in his own life, while demanding that other people indulge in their own. “I don’t know how to - I don’t know what I’m doing. Does your opinion change if you know that it’s Peter Hale?” 

John froze, staring at Stiles with wide eyes. He visibly gulped, and then schooled his expression into something that didn’t look like he’d been force fed something bitter and rotten. “It… does.” He admitted. “But… my opinion doesn’t matter in the end, kid. I can give it to you all you like, but the only opinions that matter in this are yours and… uh, Peter’s.” He sighed, cupping Stiles’ face lightly with one hand. “You’re a strong man, Stiles. And I trust you to do what’s right for you. Whether that involves… invoking a love spell or… approaching a thirty-five year old man that you’re somehow cosmically linked to in ways I will never understand, I know you can make your own decisions. If, however, you’re being a self-sacrificing nut and pushing good things away from you because you think you don’t deserve them, or because you think this, that and the other, I will gladly be the one on the side, giving you the kick in the ass that you need to drop those feelings. I want you to go after what you want, Stiles. If… Peter is who you want, who you’re meant to be with, whatever, then… I’ve got your back. Full support.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t think it matters if you don’t know what you’re doing. In the end, nobody does. We all pretty much just fumble around and hope that we find the right way up, the right direction to go in.” He smiled crookedly. “Or did you think that me and Mom met one night under the full moon, fireworks blew up over our heads, and that I didn’t stick my foot in my mouth three or four times before we ended up together?”

“It’s not just that I did think that.” Stiles shook his head. “It’s also that I’ve been watching everyone else who did the spell. They’re all falling in love around me and then there’s this whole thing with me and Peter. And I did burn the paper that had the spell on it, but I don’t know if that even makes a difference. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not ready to be with someone. I did just break up with Derek. I should wait.” 

“I’d agree with that just because I’m your dad and I think that jumping into a new relationship so soon after breaking up your old one might be too fast?” John hummed. “But then again, you did shoo Derek immediately toward his new relationship. I’m assuming they’re together now, I don’t know. Either way, why is it okay for him to start a new chapter without you so fast, but it’s not okay for you? You need to talk to Peter, son. You’ve gotta remember, as much as he seems normal now, he’s still a very damaged man - whatever he’s feeling about this, about you, it might not be what you expect it to be because… it’s not what he expected to feel.”

“That’s only if we go with the assumption that he wants me at all.” Stiles muttered. “I’m going to bed early tonight. I have to be up early, anyway. Thanks for listening. I know I’ve turned everything upside down since I dragged Scott out to the woods, last year.” 

John smiled gently. “I kinda think that you turning everything upside down is actually a really damn good thing, Stiles. No matter what bad occurred, there was tons of good, too. You and Scott made a huge group of friends that have your back. Scott’s asthma is gone. You solved a six year old case involving the murder of eight people. Maybe we need a good shake-up every few years.”

Stiles smiled back. He hugged his dad and went to his room, stretching out across his bed. He remembered feeling incredibly confident, after his first alpha shift. He wondered if Peter had anything to do with that, or if it was just Stiles’ reaction to being able to do something that nobody else could do, like with the mountain ash. He thought about calling Peter, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

**

Peter had stayed in the same spot since Stiles had left the apartment, mulling over what exactly he had done wrong. Granted, he was out of practice with comforting… well, anyone, let alone teenage boys that he was apparently linked to romantically by fate, but he’d thought he’d done a decent job of it. Stiles had clearly been upset to see Derek moving on with Stiles’ former crush - it had seemed a logical conclusion to reassure Stiles that his nephew was a dolt. Eventually, he realized he’d been standing in the parking lot long enough to have sprouted roots - if he’d been so inclined to - and he sighed and turned to head back to his car, choosing instead to drive back to his apartment. His daughter had been spending every waking second with the Argent - with _Allison_ , so she hadn’t been to the apartment very often. And Cora had been living at the loft with her brother away, reacquainting herself with his scent and coming to terms with what ‘home’ meant for her now. Either way, there wouldn’t be anyone there to bother him while he thought about what sort of madness he was planning to embark on there. The drive didn’t take long - he was only outside of Beacon Hills’ city limits by ten minutes - and eventually he pulled into the parking lot of his building, making his way up to his apartment. The door shut behind him, and he threw his coat onto his couch, the keys to his car following suit, and then slumped on the cushion next to them before he pulled out his phone and frowned. Scrolling through his contacts, his thumb paused over a name, and he dithered for several minutes before taking a deep breath and pressing it.

“Hello?” Lydia answered her phone, despite not recognizing the number, because she recognized the area code as being from Beacon County. 

“Lydia.” Peter sighed. “I… Hello. I need your help. With… Stiles.”

“Peter, how did you get this number?” Lydia demanded, waving a hand at Jackson. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing quickly. ‘Call Stiles and tell him to mute his phone.’ She held the paper out to Jackson, then put her own phone on speaker. 

“That’s - not important.” Peter frowned. “I’m resorting to saying please, can you just -”

“I don’t know what you actually want.” Lydia said pointedly. “Be more specific.” 

Jackson furrowed his brow, calling Stiles as he watched Lydia carefully.

Peter muttered under his breath. “I need… to know what to do. To…” He cleared his throat. “Show him that I don’t… hate him.”

“You really need my advice for that?” Lydia scoffed. “How much do you ‘not hate’ him, exactly?” 

Stiles answered his phone, sounding groggy. “Hey, Jackson.” 

“Hey.” Jackson kept his voice low. “I’m putting you on speaker, but I need you to put your phone on mute, alright? Just do it, no questions asked, please?”

Peter scowled at his phone. “I don’t know how to - I don’t hate him. Period. What do you want me to say?”

Stiles muted his phone, sitting up in his bed. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was curious and a little worried. 

Lydia looked up at Jackson, nodding to him and smiling tensely as she spoke to Peter. “I want you to tell me what happened tonight, first of all. Everything seemed fine, when we were talking.” 

“It was fine.” Peter insisted. “I thought it was. And then you and Derek confirmed your little love-match, and it was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t the least bit pleased about it. After he faked a smile and got his way through the rest of dinner, I followed him out to his car and told him, frankly, that Derek was a fool, and not to let him and his choices bother Stiles so much. Clearly I misinterpreted something, because he told me I knew nothing, like this was an episode of _Game of Thrones_ , and then drove off.”

Lydia giggled. “He’ll get over it. We’re not even calling ourselves a couple yet, anyway.” She thought for a minute about what advice she could give Peter, since Stiles was listening to the conversation. “Tell me how you got my phone number, and I’ll explain a few things to you about Stiles.” 

Peter scowled. “You - it’s not important, Lydia.” He said firmly.

“Then I’m not going to help you.” Lydia protested. “If it’s really not important, you’d tell me. You’re hiding something.” 

“I’m not hiding anything,” Peter snapped at her. 

“Okay.” Lydia hung up. She turned her head to look at the phone in Jackson’s hand. “Stiles, Peter is making an effort. I want you to hear all of this, even if some of it happens to piss you off. He’ll call me back.” 

True to Lydia’s words, Peter dialed her back a second later. “I obviously stole the damn thing!” He roared. “Tell me what to do.”

“Stop screaming at me.” Lydia said calmly. “Who did you steal it from? If you want my help, you’ll cooperate. You know nobody else is going to help you, that’s why you called me.” 

Peter sighed, a low growl in his voice. “I stole it from Scott. Obviously. I learned a few tricks about his idea of… security.”

Stiles looked down at his phone, his mind wandering. When they were trying to find Derek, Stiles had told Peter about Scott’s penchant for making his username and password whatever girl had his attention. He smiled to himself at the realization that Peter had remembered that. 

“Stiles wrote a specific list of traits and a lot of conditions that he thinks need to be met, before he can be with you. It wasn’t specifically about you, when he wrote everything.” Lydia explained carefully, looking at the picture she had taken of Stiles’ spell, after he had added to it. “You’re going to want to write this down.” She cleared her throat and started reading everything out loud. “‘Someone who won’t give up on me. Someone who eats ice cream in winter, outside. Favorite place is a library. This person will want me from first sight, intensely. Loves the forest. He or she will be reluctant to leave me, no matter what. Favorite shape will be a heart, but the real thing, not the Valentine’s Day one. Before I meet my one true love, I will finish college. Everyone in my pack will get married. I will take a walk around the world. There will be a solar eclipse. The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series. I will be invited to join the CIA. I will see the Mets play twenty home games. I will molt once more. Five people will give me something I didn't know I needed. My pack will have twenty people or more in it.’”

Peter was silent as he wrote, and only really slowed down once Lydia had read the part about the Cubs. He blinked slowly. “Wow. He really didn’t want it to be me, did he?”

“He didn’t want it to be anyone.” Lydia corrected. “He found out, after he made the alterations to the spell, that it was you. It wasn’t about you, specifically. What do you think of him?” 

“I respect him.” Peter began, frowning a little. “I… think he’s rather brilliant. I honestly wish I’d bitten him instead of Scott, but I’m glad that I didn’t. He wasn’t meant to be a werewolf, he was meant to be more than that, and… I’m awed by that. I…” He trailed off, realizing he was saying too much, and to the wrong person.

Stiles bit his lip, feeling hopeful as he picked his phone up, clutching it like a lifeline. 

“What do you want, in another person?” Lydia continued, smiling softly. “Can you see yourself with Stiles?” 

Peter was very, very quiet on his end of the line. Eventually, he spoke up slowly. “I think I have some thinking I need to do.” As an afterthought, he added, “Thank you for your time, Lydia.”

“You’re welcome.” Lydia murmured. She hung up. 

Stiles hung up on Jackson. He wasn’t sure what to think about things that Peter had said, but he quickly sent a text to Jackson and Lydia, thanking them for letting him eavesdrop on the conversation with Peter. 

‘Use the information wisely, bro.’ Jackson texted back, adding a thumbs-up to the text.


	16. The Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is shorter than usual. The next one will make up for it.

Scott left the clinic with his hands stuffed in his pockets, a small smile on his face. As the weather had gotten hotter, proving that summer was well and truly on the way, he found himself expecting changes, and also found himself fidgeting as he impatiently waited to see what would change. Hayden had arrived in Beacon Hills the week after Lydia, Danny, Jackson, Theo and Derek had left for Boston, and he couldn’t help that the majority of his attention had been focused on her, when it wasn’t focused on work. Now, though, he was making his way over to Stiles’ house to visit his best friend, as it had been at least two days since he’d seen him. He made his way up the front walk and knocked on the door.

Stiles opened the door, pushing damp hair away from his forehead. “Hey. Good timing. I just got out of the shower.” He snorted. “The video store doesn’t have air conditioning and ever since the comic book store shut down, every fanboy has been spreading their b.o. all over the place. It permeates everything.” 

“Gross.” Scott laughed. “Why’d they shut the comic book store down, anyway? I mean, I thought there was a pretty fair amount of people that bought stuff there.”

“The guy running it was selling other stuff, along with it.” Stiles explained. “So he’s in prison. Anyway, come in.” He stepped back from the doorway. “How are you?” 

“I’m good.” Scott replied, stepping inside the house and throwing his arm around Stiles, giving him a half hug. “Doing the usual. Spending time with Hayden, working at the clinic. I’m still looking around at colleges, I definitely don’t have as many as you do, but I’ve definitely got some I’m looking really hard at.” He looked at his best friend. “What about you?”

“Well...” Stiles hesitated, then shrugged to himself. “I met with the new school counselor today. She said I have all of the credits I need to graduate, and she wanted to know why I didn’t do that already. I told her I didn’t think I was ready and I didn’t have any college plans yet. Nothing definite, at least. So we worked out a schedule for the semester, for me to take whatever I want. I’m going to be in a cooking class and a couple of foreign language classes, and some English electives. They’re all for college credit at a lot of different places, too. So I might graduate after this semester, but that’s fine, that gives me more time I can spend working and earning money, before I go to college.” He paused. “And Kira’s dad is in town for some reason, and he wants to meet with me.” 

“Kira’s dad?” Scott blurted, blinking. “Does, uh… does that mean Kira’s here?” He shook his head. “Not important. That’s awesome, though, dude. You’re already great at cooking, so that class is probably going to be a breeze for you. And learning new languages has gotta be fun.” He tilted his head. “When did we get a new counselor? I didn’t even know that Miss Morrell left.”

“I don’t know anything about it, I just know that she was in the office and knew her way around the computer system. Other people weren’t confused by her presence.” Stiles shrugged. “Her name’s Monroe.” 

“Huh.” Scott shrugged. “Probably means I’ll get pulled into the office to talk to her at some point, too, if she’s already meeting with you.” He dropped onto the couch and looked up at Stiles. “So, what are we doing?”

Stiles laughed. “I didn’t have anything planned. But we could just sit here and talk?” He suggested. “Peter called Lydia, the other day. He was asking for advice about me. He hacked into your phone, to get her number. Your password was too easy.” 

“He got into my phone?!” Scott squeaked, going pale. “He asked for advice about you? What advice? What did he ask for?”

“He wanted to know how to prove to me that he doesn’t hate me. He said he - uh, that he’s ‘in awe’ of me.” Stiles murmured. “Lydia asked him if he could see himself with me, and he said he had to go. But he didn’t sound angry or anything. He sounded confused, I guess. Which just makes me confused. I thought he hated me. I kind of thought he hated everybody. That’s why this has been so hard for me to deal with, because...” He looked at Scott. “I don’t hate him. I’m not sure I ever hated him. I saw things about him that are a lot like me, and I said I hated those things about him because I hate them about myself.” He shook his head, needing to clarify. “I hate myself. It’s not fair of me to expect anyone else to love me.” 

Scott shook his head. “Yeah? Well, too bad, because plenty of people do love you, dude.” He threw his arms around Stiles and hugged him firmy, refusing to let go. “You’re a huge important part of all of our lives. Everyone hates stuff about themselves, but that’s why you’ve got yourself surrounded by other people. To remind you that the bad things you see about yourself? It’s stuff _you_ see. No one else does. We just love you because you’re you, dude. And… it kind of sounds like maybe Peter’s coming to terms with that, too.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Stiles looked uncertain, even as he hugged Scott in return. “You’re not going to accuse me of going dark side on you?” 

“Nah, dude. No way you’d go darkside.” Scott smiled at him gently. “I mean, technically? You already did. And you came back.”

“That wasn’t me, that was Theo with my face.” Stiles protested. 

“Still counts. You already went darkside, universe can’t pull it off again! It’s like… uh. That one thing. Double Jeopardy.” He furrowed his brows. “I still don’t get what a quiz show has to do with murder, but sure.”

“You’re so lucky that you’re adorable.” Stiles snorted. “I see what you’re saying, even though you got it wrong at least twice in that explanation of yours.” 

Scott stuck his tongue out at him. “Lucky you’re fluent in Scott, then, isn’t it? Regardless of whether I get it wrong or not.” He laughed.

“At this point? Whatever doesn’t kill me had better run.” Stiles muttered. “I think that’s dark enough.” 

Scott nodded. “Yeah, that’s… we’re agreed there.”

“Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. I was just trying to say that I’m not sure I’m ready for anything. I know that you guys care about me, but I don’t. And that’s not really how someone should start a relationship with anybody. I kind of knew, going in, that Derek liked Lydia.” 

Scott sighed. “Okay. I’ll agree that you know best about starting a relationship in that frame of mind, because only you know yourself better than I know you. But… I just think you should maybe be a little bit open to the chance that he might… you know. He might feel the same way. The same way you’re feeling, I mean. About yourself. But about himself.” He frowned. “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “We’ve both made decisions that we regret. I know. Like I said, he’s similar to me in ways that - well, I would have said you don’t get it, but you do.” 

“Every once in awhile, something sinks in.” Scott nodded, smiling crookedly. “Alright. I want you to be smiling, and I’m not doing too good of a job making that happen. So… let’s watch something stupid and hilarious, and we can order out, and it’ll be on me. I mean, not literally on me. I mean I’ll pay.”

“I appreciate the effort.” Stiles nodded. “Don’t take it as you failing if it doesn’t work, though.” He shrugged. 

Scott smiled a little, shrugging, too. “Can’t help it, though. I’m your best buddy. I should be able to cheer you up when you need to be cheered up.”

“I need to be better.” Stiles muttered. “Worth... I mean, I don’t feel like I'm worth the trouble right now.” 

“You might not think you are, but you are. And you’ll see that eventually, and someone else will probably see that before you do.” Scott assured him, pressing one hand to his friend’s shoulder and squeezing gently.

“I just don’t know how it ended up like this. I was clear, right? I said ‘I want someone who will want me from first sight, intensely.’ I kind of figured certain things went along with that.” Stiles snorted. “But yeah, it’s better that he didn’t go all octopus on me.” 

Scott smiled. “You would have freaked, and you know it.”

“I’ve thought about it, though.” Stiles admitted. 

“Yeah?” Scott asked, tilting his head. “Like… often? Often enough that you, like, had him in mind when you made your spell?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles admitted. “I mean, some of that stuff, I thought applied to Derek. But I made it with the knowledge that Derek had just been staring openly at Lydia, so...” He sighed. “I know that Peter was not one of the good guys when he hurt Lydia, but he listened to me, which was something that most people didn’t bother doing. I guess that definitely got my attention. Even in all of the chaos...” He made a face at his use of the word. “He cared what I had to say. He’s always spoken to me like we’re equals, instead of me being somehow lesser than him. I’m comfortable around him. I trust him.” 

“Stiles, you’re not lesser than anyone, I wish you’d understand that.” Scott sighed. “But about Peter… if you trust him, then I’ll try to trust him, too. I didn’t know you felt like that about him. I’m - I’m going to do my best to be supportive, okay? Because I know this matters to you and I don’t want to be the dick that, like, ruins your happiness or your potential happiness or whatever by doing the whole, ‘I don’t trust him, you can’t be with him, he doesn’t deserve you’ thing.”

“Can you be the dick who tells me to make sure I don’t treat him like crap, then?” Stiles laughed. “Because that’s what I’m more worried about. I worry that I’m going to be so busy insulting myself that he loses interest or gets tired of me, in general.” 

Scott huffed a laugh. “I can be that dick, for sure. But the same goes for him. If he hurts you, all bets are off.”

**

On Friday night, Hayden glanced down proudly at the t-shirt that Stiles had given her, then looked up to watch everyone in the room. She kept looking at Stiles and Peter, even though they weren’t doing anything particularly interesting, from the look of it. They were both just eating dinner, but she knew - thanks to Scott - that there was so much more going on there.

“Are you staring at our alpha?” Mason teased, sitting down beside Hayden. “And if you are, why? I was scared of him months ago, but I know now that he’s a big nerd.”

“He’s not a nerd.” Hayden protested. “I wouldn’t call anyone who can turn into a dragon a ‘nerd.’ No, just watch.” She nodded toward Peter and Stiles. “It’s like seeing Spike and Buffy in real life.” 

Mason laughed. “What? How?” 

“How?” Hayden repeated. “Our leader over there is a teenager who just wants to keep the town safe. He’s from a single-parent household and he’s always got something kind of funny to say about everything. And then Peter is a former villain, who really likes ‘Buffy’ and he just wants to be with her. Him.” She looked embarrassed. 

Mason didn’t have the heart to tell Hayden that said former villain could hear everything she was saying. Instead, he decided to let the conversation continue, to see how Peter reacted to it. “Okay, if that’s true, then Derek is Angel. That does make sense. He’s got the whole brooding thing down, and sneaking up on people. And he’s our resident Buffy’s ex-boyfriend.” 

Hayden smiled. “And he’s dating Cordelia now.” 

“Wait, no?” Mason shook his head. “Lydia is more like Willow. Red hair, really smart, Best friend who is also the voice of reason for Buffy.” 

Hayden frowned. “Scott says that Lydia was really popular and kind of scary. That’s Cordelia.” 

“She can be both. For now.” Mason shrugged. “Who am I?” 

Hayden looked over at him, mulling it over before she spoke. “You’re more like Jonathan. Not entirely useless, but you’re only part of the group by extension. I’m Anya.” She smiled widely, knowing she was being a little bratty. “One question?” 

“Yeah.” Mason laughed. 

“Who’s his Drusilla?” Hayden looked at Peter, then back at Mason. 

“I don’t know.” Mason admitted. “We don’t really talk to Peter. He’s just kind of here and then we’re all leaving at the end of the get-together, and that’s it.” 

Hayden rolled her eyes and got up, walking across the room and sitting down by Peter. “Hi.” She held her hand out to him. “I’m Hayden.” 

Peter stared at her for a long moment, and then carefully let his nostrils flare to scent her as he lifted a hand to shake hers. “I’m aware.” His lips twitched after a beat. “Pun not intended.”

Stiles glanced up, his gaze going to Peter. He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head slightly, a small smile on his face as he went back to eating his dinner. 

“Nice.” Hayden laughed. “I just came over here to tell you that I don’t know why everyone else is afraid of you. I’m not.” 

“Mm.” Peter nodded. “That would be because you haven’t seen me pre-and-post psychotic break. Some things linger.” He studied her for a moment. “Though even if you had, you really wouldn’t be afraid of me, would you, little one?”

Hayden shook her head. “My own body tried to kill me. How much damage can another person do?” 

Peter’s eyes darkened significantly. “Oh, quite a bit.” He murmured. “Though… that time has passed now.”

Stiles looked up at Peter again. “You wouldn’t risk it.” He said calmly. “Not unless you want me to use you for kindling. Again.” 

“Hold on.” Hayden blurted, staring at Stiles. “You set him on fire?!” 

“He was trying to murder my friends.” Stiles explained. “And now he’s one of them, so... hopefully, that won’t happen again, ever. But I’d do what I had to do.” He looked back down at his plate. 

Peter opened his mouth to respond, staring at Stiles with his brows drawn together and a hint of confusion on his face. The younger man’s words raced through his mind - particularly the roundabout declaration of them as friends - and slowly, his mouth clacked shut again. He looked down at his own plate.

Hayden looked back and forth between them, certain now that her little joke was more accurate than she had even guessed. She got up silently and walked away from the table, sitting down by Scott. 

Scott slid his arm around Hayden with a smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Keep trying.” He murmured. “You actually made Peter react without being… like, mean.”

“I’m letting them handle their situation right now.” Hayden whispered. “I was making a joke when I was talking to Mason, but this is for real.” 

“Well, you were definitely right.” Scott whispered back, nodding. “Looking at them now, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You got it in one.”

Hayden smiled, leaning against Scott. “You guys really should talk to him more.” 

Scott looked back at Hayden, holding her closer. “I think you’re right.”

Stiles grabbed his backpack from where he had put it by the door. He carried it over to Peter. “Pick a movie.” He said quietly. 

Peter watched Stiles carefully, swallowing and glancing down at the backpack before he reached for it. Slipping his hand inside, he grabbed the first thing his fingers touched. Lifting it out, he stared at the front of the dvd curiously, noticing a black and white image of Katie Holmes in the center, smiling and holding a bright red apple, and then handed it to Stiles quietly.

Stiles smiled. “Thanks.” He carried the dvd over to the tv, putting it in the dvd player and sitting on the couch. He glanced at Peter, wondering if he should invite the older man to sit beside him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

Peter made his way toward the couch as well, and hesitated before sitting down at the other end. He very carefully avoided looking at anyone else, clearing his throat and leaning back.

Stiles glanced over at Peter. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed as he started the movie. For a few seconds, he thought about getting up and moving to sit beside Peter, but he reminded himself that he had a list of things to prevent himself from potentially causing Peter more emotional damage.

Peter glanced up as Allison made her way around them with Malia, and then suddenly reached out, yanking on his daughter’s hand. “Sit here.” He murmured. “You, too. Uh. Allison.”

Allison raised her eyebrows, and her eyes shot to Stiles in surprise. “He just called me by my name.”

Stiles grinned. “Progress.” He murmured, mouthing ‘thank you’ to Peter a few seconds later. 

Peter looked at Stiles, inclining his head before clearing his throat and tucking Malia against his side.

Allison looked amused, sitting down between her girlfriend and Stiles. She leaned toward Stiles, smiling. “Maybe there’s hope, yet.” She murmured.

“What is this?” Malia demanded, looking over at Stiles. “Are you dating my dad?” 

Stiles blinked. “Um, no.” He shook his head. He used to think he was too blunt, until he met Malia. 

“No, Malia.” Peter said firmly, frowning at her. “Shh. Watch the movie.”

“In a minute.” Malia protested. “I thought that you two were like me and Allison. Don’t you have that instinctual thing, like we do?” 

“Okay.” Stiles stopped the movie. “Time to leave.” 

Allison gave Stiles an apologetic look, mouthing, ‘I’m sorry,’ at him. She sighed and stood up. “Mal, come on. Let’s go back to my place, yeah?”

“Fine, but I’m tired of people not explaining things to me.” Malia scowled, getting up from the couch and leaving the apartment. 

Allison smiled at everyone else, waving a hand as she left after Malia. 

“Before anyone else starts,” Stiles looked around at the betas. “I’m not ready to date anybody. Now drop it.” 

“Because you’re cookie dough?” Hayden smirked. 

“Yes, and he isn’t baked yet.” Peter replied smoothly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a problem, ‘Anya’?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open and he squeaked, blushing in embarrassment. 

“No problem at all, Spike.” Hayden grinned. 

Peter growled under his breath, narrowing his eyes at her. 

Scott laughed, burying his face in Hayden’s shoulder. “You’re the best.” He told her. 

Stiles barely heard anything around him as he studied Peter, feeling once more like the older man was an unsolved puzzle. 

As the others snickered and laughed and talked, Peter’s eyes drifted toward Stiles once more. He observed the younger man quietly, uncertain what exact emotion he could feel stirring inside him before he forced himself to look away. He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Did you… still want us all to leave?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “I just want - I don’t know what I want.”

Peter hummed thoughtfully. “I can tell you what I want.” He said, looking over at Stiles. “In the moment, right now?” He gestured at the tv. “I’d like to watch a movie.”

Stiles held the remote out to Peter, then went out to the balcony. The night air was warm and welcoming, and he was tempted to give in and fly around in the dark sky. 

Peter tossed the remote onto the couch and went after him. As he approached the balcony, he leaned against it, staring out over Beacon Hills. “I didn’t mean you had to leave.” He said quietly. 

“I know.” Stiles looked over at Peter. “What do you really think about all of this?”

“I think… that there are things in this world that work in ways we won’t ever understand.” Peter murmured, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “And I think that if things are meant to happen a certain way, they will. We just need to… be patient. And be open to them.” He glanced at Stiles. “But definitely patient.”

“I ended up talking to my dad about this. About you.” Stiles admitted. “He told me that I keep running from being happy. He’s not wrong.” He shook his head. “The most confident I’ve felt, in the past year, was after I did that alpha shift. I want to feel that way all the time.”

Peter cleared his throat. “If I can be of assistance in any way… Well. I’d like to offer my assistance.” He didn’t wait for a response, and added instead, “I’m surprised your father didn’t immediately track me down and try to take my head from my body.”

“I wouldn’t have let him. But he just wants me to be happy.” Stiles murmured. 

“At least there’s that.” Peter murmured.

“I’m going to Columbia. In New York.” Stiles said suddenly. “Kira’s dad is a professor there and he offered me a scholarship and to pay part of my rent. I’m basically babysitting her, but I’ll major in a few different things, all at once.”

“That’s good.” Peter looked over at him, unsure how to feel about that. 

“I’m coming back here, when I’m done. Four years is a long time.” Stiles started to fidget. 

Peter nodded. “It is. It’s… a hugely significant amount of time.” He rubbed a hand over his chin then. “But it’s a good thing. For you. To be out on your own at school. And… perhaps by the time you’re finished… Things will be different. Here.” He cleared his throat. “With me.”

“I’m hopeful that they will be.” Stiles nodded. 

“So am I.” Peter murmured. “In fact, I’m sure they will be.” He looked at Stiles again and cleared his throat. “Would you want to go back inside and finish the movie?”

Stiles’ lips twitched and he nodded, fighting the urge to ask if it was a date. He didn’t want to send any mixed signals. Instead, he opened the door for Peter and gestured for him to go ahead.

Peter tilted his head and stepped inside, a small, crooked smile touching the corner of his mouth once his back was turned to Stiles.

Stiles followed Peter, sitting down on the couch. He shivered a little, then blew into his hands, rubbing his arms to warm himself. 

Without thinking about it, Peter slid his jacket off and tucked it around Stiles’ shoulders, refusing to acknowledge the reactions of the rest of the group. He was just helping to keep a… ‘friend’ warm. That was all.

Stiles gave Peter a grateful smile. 

Hayden grinned at them, nudging Scott. 

Scott dropped his head to Hayden’s with a smile, burying his face in her hair. He squeezed her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Progress.” He murmured.

Hayden laughed. “Do the two of you share a word of the day calendar?” She teased. “Stiles said the same thing, earlier.”

Scott grinned. “Well, we _are_ best friends.” He teased her right back. “Also, I really do have a word of the day calendar. It’s pretty useful!”

“He’s been using it since last summer.” Stiles grinned. “It’s not an ephemeral habit.”

“It’s true.” Scott admitted, shrugging. “And, I mean... It’s helping me prepare to take the SATs, so that’s good.”

“I’m going to Columbia.” Stiles blurted. Peter was the first person he had told, and he wanted the older man to know that.

Scott shot upright. “Really?” He blurted. “That’s - it’s final, that’s where you’re gonna go?”

“Yeah. I’m majoring in History. And English. There’s a Medieval Studies option for both, so I’m dual-majoring.” Stiles smiled. 

Scott looked around at the others, down at Hayden, and then back at Stiles. “Well, okay then. I guess I’m going to find a veterinary medicine program in New York.”

“Looks like I’m going to college in New York.” Hayden grinned.

Scott laughed, tilting his head down to kiss her playfully. “This is going to be fun.” He murmured, nuzzling her.


	17. The Attack

Stiles smiled to himself as he passed the library on the way to his culinary class, on the first day of senior year. The seniors in his pack had written their initials on one of the shelves, and Allison had written Lydia’s initials, since their friend was on the other side of the country. After that, Stiles had scrawled ‘TR’, ‘JW,’ and ‘DM.’ Their other friends deserved recognition, too. He set his backpack down near one of the cooking stations in the classroom, but the teacher waved him up to the front of the room, holding out a pass. 

“The guidance counselor wants to see you, but I wanted to know if it’s true that you’re not supposed to be here.” The teacher smiled at him. 

“Um, my schedule-” Stiles began, confused. 

“Oh, not that!” She shook her head. “I mean that this is a class for beginners and I’ve heard that you’re more advanced. It’s too bad that you can’t prove that, today. I could see about getting you the credits for the other classes and put you in a higher-level one.” 

“I could bring in something, tomorrow?” Stiles suggested. 

“Yes, do that.” The teacher nodded. She grabbed a flyer from the top of her desk, holding it out to him. “In the meantime, think about this.” 

Stiles nodded, taking the pass and the flyer from her. He didn’t look at the flyer, folding it up and putting it in his backpack as he walked to the counselor’s office. He had a bad feeling and he hadn’t experienced something like that in nearly a year. 

Inside the office, Ms. Monroe smiled at him. “I just wanted to check in with you and see how your first day as a senior is going.” 

“It’s good. I really wanted to attend that cooking class you pulled me out of, actually.” Stiles gestured toward the door. “So, good talk? I can go?” 

“Not quite. Despite what you may have been led to believe by everyone else in this town, you don’t get to have what you want all the time, Mr. Stilinski.” 

Stiles snorted. “I haven’t heard a tone like that in someone’s voice since Harris was yelling at me, during chem class. What did I do wrong?” 

“You murdered a lot of people in the hospital.” 

Stiles blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was there, when you did it. Doctors, nurses, patients. You didn’t care. You killed them, one by one. But you’re still walking around these halls, acting like you own the building. And the town. And I know what you are.” 

Stiles sighed. “What am I, then?” 

“An alpha werewolf.” Monroe scowled at him. “I think it’s time you learned that you’re not holding all of the cards. Maybe you’ve noticed by now that your dad didn’t come home this morning?” 

Stiles’ amusement at the counselor thinking he was a werewolf gave way to cold fear. “You have my dad?” 

“And we’ll give him back, unharmed, as soon as you kill your pack.” 

Stiles’ heart raced and he took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He didn’t want the betas to worry. “You’re mad at me for committing murder, so you want me to commit more? You know how fucking stupid that sounds?” 

“Language, Mr. Stilinski.” Monroe said evenly. 

“You kidnapped my dad, I’ll say whatever I damned well please.” Stiles retorted. 

“You have until sunset. Bring me tokens of their demise and I’ll let your dad go.” Monroe murmured. 

“Like, what? Severed heads?” Stiles’ mouth dropped open when the counselor shrugged. “Holy shit, you honestly think I’m going to do that?” 

“Your pack or your father. You have a few hours to decide. Now go back to class. You’re here to learn, after all.” Monroe smiled as Stiles got up, his hands shaking. “Have a good day, Stiles.” 

“Suck my dick.” Stiles snapped, slamming the door behind him. He immediately called his dad as he walked through the halls, swearing when it went straight to voicemail. His next call was to the station. 

“Beacon Hills Department of - I mean. Sheriff’s Department.” The voice on the other end yawned. “How can I help you?”

“This is Stiles.” Stiles blurted. “Is my dad there? Did he work a double?” 

“Stiles?” The voice that answered sounded slightly more awake. “No, he’s - your dad left at midnight.” 

“Shit.” Stiles hung up and called Peter as he ran down the hall to his locker. 

Peter answered warily. “Stiles? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Yes, but I’ve got more important things to deal with, right now.” Stiles said quickly, grabbing his jacket and the keys to his Jeep. “They have my dad. And I don’t even know who ‘they’ are, just that the counselor’s involved. She slipped up and said that they would return him to me, not her. They. They’ve had him since midnight. I was at the school and I came home and went to bed, and I figured he was just working a double, and they’ve had him this whole time. I don’t know where he is, but she gave me until sunset to kill my entire pack, before she’ll give him back to me. Or so she says. I don’t believe a word out of her mouth, though.” 

“Who is this counselor?” Peter asked immediately. “Give me a name, and I’ll get information. We’ll find your father, and no one from the pack is going to be killed, by her or otherwise.”

“Tamora Monroe.” Stiles blurted. He spelled the first name for Peter, since it wasn’t standard spelling. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I know how these people tend to operate, I’d have killed her right there, in the fucking office.” 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t. Let’s try and keep you as guilt-free as we possibly can while we deal with this woman, yeah?” Peter went silent for a moment, and the sound of rapid typing could be heard over the phone. “Damn it. Her record is unfortunately clean. She keeps her head down and doesn’t seem to cause any problems… I need to dig a little deeper. Stiles, are you leaving the school right now? Meet me at the loft as soon as you possibly can.”

“I’m on my way there, now. I’m bringing the pack. I don’t trust this school right now.” Stiles muttered. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He hung up, then sent a text to the pack members in the building. ‘Evacuate. Come to the parking lot.’ He made sure that it sent before he left the building, going to his Jeep. 

Within minutes, pack members came pouring out of exits across the front of the school, all rushing toward the parking lot. 

Erica bounded toward Stiles, looking worried with Allison right behind her. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Allison looked panicked. “Is everything okay? Is it Boston? Is it your dad?”

“It’s my dad.” Stiles nodded. “We need to leave right now. I’ll explain at the loft, when we’re all there.” He looked around. “Liam, Hayden and Mason, you three come with me. Scott, take Isaac, okay? Allison, you’ve got Erica, Cora, Malia and Boyd. Good?” He felt like his mind wouldn’t be quiet. “I already called Peter. He’s meeting us there, but we should probably call Melissa and Chris. And Parrish.” 

“We’ll get in touch with them.” Scott assured him, grabbing Stiles’ arm and squeezing. “Let’s get going.”

Stiles drove the human betas to the loft, completely silent as he walked into the apartment. He called Derek on speakerphone, trying to remember what time it was in Boston as the phone rang.

“Stiles?” Derek answered immediately, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Give me a second.” Stiles looked around the room, making sure everyone was there before he spoke. “The guidance counselor took my dad last night. He finished his shift at midnight and he didn’t come home. I assumed he was working a double, and I called to verify with the station. She wants me to kill this entire pack by sunset tonight, before she’ll give him back. Obviously, that’s not happening. She also thinks I’m a werewolf. I didn’t bother correcting her. And she’s working with someone else, but I don’t know who.” 

“What do you want us to do?” Hayden asked. “I’ll call my sister and get her to come here. You can trust her, I promise.” 

“I know.” Stiles nodded. “Go ahead and call her. And tell her to get Parrish, too. But keep it quiet.” 

Hayden nodded and left the room to make the phone call. 

“I’m calling my dad.” Allison blurted, flashbacks of the darach and their parents going missing running through her head. Calling Chris was as much for his help as it was to reassure herself that he was okay.

Peter moved forward, his eyes narrowed. “Derek, does the name Tamora Monroe mean anything to you at all?”

Derek frowned. “It doesn’t sound familiar to me. Is that who’s doing this?”

“She’s the new guidance counselor at the high school.” Peter told him, crowding closer to Stiles to speak into the phone. “And at some point in the last year, likely during the time that Theo was possessing Stiles, she discovered the supernatural. She hasn’t been in Beacon Hills that long, but she’s been here long enough to catch on to the fact that things are… different here. It’s entirely possible that she was in one of the locations that the nogitsune attacked, but that’s speculation.” He looked at Stiles. “Why is she targeting you? Why kill the pack? What sort of read did you get off of her? Aside from the fact that she’s clearly an idiot?”

Stiles smiled hesitantly at Peter’s insult, regarding the counselor. “She said she was at the hospital when I killed everyone. Even though that wasn’t me.” He explained. “She said I need to learn to deal with consequences and she’s tired of everyone else in this town letting me walk free. I told her it was fucking dumb to be mad at me for murder and want me to kill more people, but she’s batshit crazy, she’s not going to see reason.” 

“In that case, we don’t need to worry about being reasonable when it comes to her.” Peter said firmly.

“She’s got it out for you, Stiles.” Derek agreed. “The last thing we need to worry about is being lenient. I know Scott’s not going to be happy about this, but we have to do what we have to do. Kick her ass.”

“As soon as I know my dad is safe, I'm definitely doing that.” Stiles muttered. He looked at Peter. “I don’t think you should be there, when I do. I don’t want you to see what I’m going to do to her.” 

Peter snorted. “Of all of the people suited to be here when you lay waste to that pathetic creature, I understand why you wouldn’t want me to be there. However, I am perfectly fine with you setting fire to and ravaging anyone who isn’t me, particularly someone who’s stolen a family member of yours.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Someone needs to get me a map of this county and a map of the town, and I need markers. Scott, call your mom. Tell her to get some supplies together, just in case they hurt my dad. I'm...” He stopped, thinking. “I’m going to call the school and tell her to meet me at the park, in the middle of town, tonight. She’s not coming alone, and neither am I. But if I can figure out where she lives and where she’s keeping my dad, that’ll help me deal with her even faster. She wouldn't have him at her house, that’s too obvious. And she’ll want somewhere to keep his car hidden. This wasn’t spontaneous, she’s been planning it for awhile. Allison, can you have your dad check warehouses? Someplace with garage doors, but not like, truck bay ones. They would’ve needed to drive the cruiser in.” 

Allison nodded sharply. “On it.” She told him.

“Me, too.” Scott added, raising his phone to call his mother.

“Stiles, is there anything we can do here?” Derek asked, frowning. “I could speak with Danny?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “Have him look up her credit cards, bank statements. See if there are any recent purchases or rentals, you know? Stuff like that. She might be keeping his car in one place and him in another. She would have needed the usual bullshit. Rope or tape, or zip ties, maybe. Something to knock him unconscious. Chloroform takes a lot longer than everyone thinks it does, so it wouldn’t be that. Maybe even a first aid kit, if it has smelling salts? Those could do the job. Even cash withdrawals from an ATM would give us an idea of what sort of route she takes to work, or where she lives, once we get the location for that. If she didn’t leave a trail, I mean. Bitch is suicidal, trying to kidnap my dad and thinking I wouldn’t know exactly how to track her down. Look for, uh, mountain ash or silver bullets, too. She’s not that smart, she’s probably going on what she’s read in books or seen in movies.” 

“Noted. I’ll get with Danny right away. We’ll find your dad, Stiles.” Derek told Stiles sincerely. “And we’ll make her regret taking him.”

“Yeah. Well, Lydia didn’t call me to warn me, so I take that as a good sign.” Stiles muttered. “I’m hanging up, I’ll call you back if I learn something. Do the same, all right?” He hung up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket. After a moment’s hesitation, he got the phone back out of his pocket and made another call. 

“Stilinski, you’re lucky this is my free period.” Finstock grumbled. “What the hell do you want?” 

“Hey, Coach.” Stiles greeted the teacher. “I need you to do something for me, and not ask questions. Go look up employee records and find me the guidance counselor’s home address.” 

“Are you going to tell me what this is for?” Finstock asked warily. 

“No way. Plausible deniability.” Stiles said carefully. “Just know that I’ll owe you a big favor, later on.” 

“Well, okay!” Finstock hung up. 

Stiles snorted, shaking his head before he looked up again, trying not to think the worst. 

“Stop,” Peter said, keeping his voice low. He reached out and set his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck. “Stop worrying. Until we know otherwise, your father is fine, and this… child hasn’t and will not harm him. We’ll get him back safe. And you will then end her short; miserable existence in bloody and spectacular fashion.”

Stiles nodded. He hugged Peter suddenly, his breath hitching in his throat. 

Peter’s eyes went wide, his hands hanging in midair. He swallowed roughly, an uncertain expression on his face, before his hands slowly settled on Stiles’ back, patting gently. “It’s alright.” He murmured. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t lose my dad.” Stiles blurted. “I’ll lose my mind again, I’ll be worse than Theo ever was.” 

Peter gripped Stiles suddenly, fiercely, and peered at him with a hard look in his eyes. “I will _not_ let you lose your father. It won’t happen. Period. Do you understand?”

Stiles nodded again. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly. “Okay.” He murmured. “I’m calling her now.” He turned, speaking loud enough for the rest of the pack to hear him, human or otherwise. “Everybody stay quiet, I’m calling her.” 

**

At sunset, Stiles walked down the sidewalk of the park, in the center of town. He was alone, the rest of the pack scattered around the park. His gaze went to his dad. “Did they hurt you at all? I mean, if they even looked at you sideways, you tell me.” 

John just looked relieved to see Stiles. He glanced at his captors and pursed his lips. “I got a nice whack upside the noggin when I got captured, but otherwise, no. I’m okay.” The corners of his eyes creased as he studied Stiles. “Are you alright, son?”

“No, not really.” Stiles admitted. “We’ll talk about that later, though.” He looked over at Tamora Monroe. “You let him go, and let him leave the park.” 

“Not until I know that you did what I told you.” Monroe said coldly. “And if you lied to me, I’ll kill your father right here in front of you. After that, I’m coming after your pack.” 

“About that.” Stiles shook his head. “For being someone who is expected to give guidance to teenagers, you don’t seem to have all of your shit together.” 

“I’ve been giving plenty of guidance for the past few months, teaching teenagers how to hunt your kind.” Monroe smiled smugly. 

“And what exactly is my kind, again?” Stiles smiled. 

Monroe rolled her eyes. “You’re a werewolf. I don’t know why you’re posturing. Everyone you know is going to die.” 

“Funny thing about that.” Stiles nodded. “I know _you_. I know that you were in the hospital to pick up medication for yourself, for your psychiatric issues. I know that you have an actual, honest to god... or should I say, honest to you? God complex. You think you run things. You think you know everything. Have you ever seen Game of Thrones, by chance?” 

“He’s stalling.” Monroe told the man standing behind John Stilinski. “Stab the Sheriff.” 

Stiles roared, shifting into his alpha form. The clothes he had been wearing ripped to shreds and fell to the ground, and he raked the claws of one foot across Monroe’s body in one swipe, shoving the man away from his father with his other foot. He ignored the screams of terror from the crowd, kneeling as he turned his head to look at Allison. 

Allison, a determined expression on her face, raced toward Stiles, jumping up and catching herself on one strong wing before she threw one leg over him and climbed up Stiles’ back. She settled herself just behind the spikes and spines at his neck and drew her bow, eyes narrowed as she looked around for Monroe. “Anyone wanna try threatening the Sheriff one more time? I promise you’ll regret it.”

Monroe pressed a hand to her wounded abdomen. “Now that they know the truth about you, you’ll never be safe. You’ll finally know how it feels.” 

Stiles breathed a wave of fire, starting with Monroe and extending to the man a few feet to his right, who was aiming a gun at Stiles’ dad. He spread his wings, flying up toward the tops of the trees and circling around to check on the betas, careful to keep Allison from falling. They had spent most of the summer practicing maneuvers like this.

Allison nocked an arrow, firing easily at a woman who was running toward the Sheriff with a wild look in her eyes, hitting her through the wrist.

A mere few seconds later, Peter lunged at the woman, confiscating her gun and clubbing her across the temple with it. Calmly, he walked away and extended a hand to help the Sheriff up before offering him the gun. “Someone’s filed the numbers off. Let’s get you out of here.”

John reached a hand out to get up, grunting, and shook his head. “I’m of more use to Stiles on the field here. I need to stay and help him.”

“You’re of more use to him alive.” Peter snapped. 

John pursed his lips. “Fine. Then find me a good vantage point to help. My firearms still work, dammit, and hell if I’m not going to help my kid!”

Peter growled, but dragged the Sheriff away, managing to find a decent spot, not too far from some of the other pack members, where he’d be safe and still able to help. Peter would be damned if he were ever to blame for Stiles’ father getting hurt. 

Hayden watched, angry and feeling helpless that she couldn’t use slashing claws or fiery breath to stop the wave of attackers. Monroe hadn’t been kidding; she had amassed a small army. There were at least a hundred people who wanted to kill the pack, whether they were human or not. But that number decreased with every arrow and bullet fired, every exhaled breath from the dragon circling overhead and slash of claws. “When this is over, somebody is biting me.” Hayden muttered, picking up a rock near her feet and throwing it at a would-be attacker. She looked confused when that same man toppled forward instead of backward. To her right, it happened again. Anyone getting within ten feet of them was being knocked to the ground by something unseen. She kicked a gun away from the first man to fall, calling out for Liam to take the weapon as she gripped the man’s hair and yanked, forcing him to look at her. “I have a few questions.”

“I don’t answer to werewolves.” The man sneered. 

“Well, perfect! I’m not a werewolf.” Hayden snapped. 

“Dragon?” He pointed toward the sky, as though Hayden needed the visual to know who or what he meant. 

Hayden shook her head. “Human. A few of us are human. Whatever she told you, her information was wrong. It usually is, in matters like this. How many of you are there? Do you have names of the others?”

“Three hundred of us, give or take. We’re all first wave. The rest... they’re cleaning up, getting rid of whoever remains of your - of their kind.”

Hayden took a deep breath, looking around her again. She knew better than to let him go, and she was certain that her forethought was saving his life. “You’re going to be arrested.” She told him. “And when you get the opportunity to make a phone call? Don’t call your lawyer. Call someone you know and tell them to stand down. Tell them to spread the word. Any attack you guys make is going to get you killed. Monroe started this and she didn’t know what she was doing. She’s dead. She didn’t die a martyr, she died because she told the Sheriff’s son to kill all of his friends, to get his father back. She took the Sheriff. I’m guessing you didn’t know that.”

“Why should I trust you?” He shook his head at her. 

“Because you’re still breathing.” Mason crouched beside Hayden. “Come on, we’re moving away from this spot. We need somewhere we can sit and wait out the rest. It won’t be a whole lot longer, now.”

Hayden called out to John, gesturing toward the metal picnic tables at the south end of the park. 

John glanced away, firing off a shot and deliberately catching a young woman in the hand, to stop her from attempting to sneak up on Scott before he jumped up and ran toward Hayden and Mason, keeping low. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m kinda wishing Stiles would set up a fire perimeter to get them to back off, just for a minute so we can regroup.”

Erica’s body ricocheted off of the table in front of them, and she landed in a crouch, her mouth bloody and snarling. “I thought letting loose was going to be fun. This is just irritating.” She muttered. “They’re all human, and none of them know what the hell they’re doing.”

“Then we need to figure out a way to make them stop, and fire isn’t going to help. It hasn’t, so far.” Mason looked around as he tried to think of a solution. “Okay, I’ve got it, but it’s probably not going to help?” 

“Just say it.” Hayden frowned. “This is beyond out of control.” 

“Ice cream truck.” Mason blurted. 

John and Erica both turned their heads to stare at him. “ _What_?” They said in unison. 

“Everybody stops what they’re doing when they hear the ice cream truck.” Mason explained. “I know, it sounds stupid.” 

“That’s… actually not that stupid.” John said, frowning. “At the very least, an ice cream truck randomly appearing in the middle of a battle with hunters, humans, werewolves, and my dragon child is enough to confuse the hell out of everyone into stopping what they’re doing.”

“Yeah, except we can’t just go get an ice cream truck.” Hayden muttered. “But we could use your car’s speaker to play ice cream truck music.” She told John. “And while you and Mason set that up, Erica and I can tell Stiles about the perimeter thing. At least three sides? And then you can come in from the fourth.” 

“That’ll have to do.” John nodded. He glanced at Mason. “Are you ready? We’ll need to make a run for it.”

“Yes, sir.” Mason nodded back. 

“Erica, take Hayden and go. Hurry.” John told the blonde.

Erica nodded and looked at Hayden. “Come on. It’ll just be faster if I carry you.” She told the younger girl and hunched over a bit. “Hang on tight, just don’t choke me.”

“Why would I?” Hayden smiled, climbing onto Erica’s back. “I choke you, we both fall. Not something I want.” 

“That a girl.” Erica grinned, straightening and hitching her hands under Hayden’s knees before hiking the younger girl higher on her back. “Ready?” She glanced at John. “Give us cover, Sheriff!” She darted back across the field before he could say a word.

“Dammit!” John cursed, firing several shots in several directions away from Erica and Hayden to distract anyone that might attempt to attack the two girls.

Stiles turned around, breathing fire at anyone who got too close. He descended toward the ground, rolling slightly to one side, to give Allison a chance to talk to Erica and Hayden. He kept himself busy, using flames and his tail to keep hunters away. 

Allison tightened her thighs around Stiles and rolled with him, hanging off his side as she continued firing. “What’s going on?” She yelled to the other girls. “What’s happening?”

“Stiles needs to set a perimeter of fire.” Hayden yelled back. “Just three sides, leave the fourth open to drive them out.” 

Allison nodded sharply, and stopped firing long enough to pat Stiles’ scales. She crawled up his neck, high enough to call to him. “Three-sided perimeter! Erica and the others have a plan!”

Stiles’ lips pulled back from his teeth and he flew off to the far end of the park, a line of fire spreading from one end of the block to the other. He did the same with two more sides, adding more flames to the open side of the park, but only halfway. 

Allison clutched at him tightly until she managed to center herself again, then resumed firing, a gleeful grin on her face. “You’re brilliant.” She told him.

Stiles huffed, the only sign that he was amused, despite the situation they were in. He moved to the ground once more, kneeling to let Allison off of his back. A loud, cartoony song made him turn his head to see what was going on, and he watched his dad drive into the park, playing the music over his car’s speaker.

Allison slid down, following his gaze in confusion. “What the hell…” She looked back up at Stiles. “What am I seeing right now?”

Stiles looked around, then shifted back to his human form, not concerned about his lack of clothing. Everyone in the park knew he was a dragon, being naked wasn’t going to embarrass him. He smiled crookedly at Allison. “Sounds like my dad’s changed his career plans.” 

Allison snorted and looked around curiously. “Well… whatever his career choice, it kinda seems like his plan is working.I mean, if this was his plan?” She gestured at the visibly confused expressions on the faces of the hunters as the fighting began to die down. She furrowed her brow, looking up at Stiles. “We need to get these people out of here. The innocent ones, I mean.”

“Do that, then.” Stiles nodded. “And get the betas back to the loft. You and your dad and Peter can keep an eye on the doors and keep everyone else safe. I’m going to be dealing with clean-up, here. Identifying people, talking to their friends and relatives. Neighbors. That kind of thing.” 

“Keep Scott and Hayden and Erica with you.” Allison told him. “Just in case. Be safe, will you?”

“You know I will.” Stiles smiled. “I’d hug you, but... awkward. Let’s just put that on hold until I find some pants.” 

Allison choked out another laugh, shutting her eyes. “Oh my god. Go, be the alpha.” She teased. “We’ll hug later.”

Stiles shifted again, flying around the park to check on the betas. He landed near the Jeep, going back to human form and getting a spare pair of jeans and a t-shirt, to get dressed. He put his socks and sneakers on in a hurry, grabbing the baseball bat from the back of the Jeep. It wouldn’t do much, but it would keep people from getting too close. He ran through the park, toward his dad’s car. 

John leaned against the cruiser, watched as Stiles ran toward him. He smiled crookedly. “Hi, son.” He greeted.

“Hey.” Stiles grinned back, hugging his dad. “I got everybody clear that I could. There might be a couple of stragglers with weapons, coming for us. But I’m mostly worried about how it’s going to smell tomorrow, out here.” 

John grunted, hugging Stiles back and keeping an arm around him when he pulled back. “Smell? You mean the scorching?” He asked, rubbing Stiles’ back lightly. “We’ll deal with it formally tomorrow, but at least these were controlled flames, yeah?”

“Well, I was actually talking about the flaming corpses.” Stiles muttered, rubbing his nose. “But on a bright note, anything we don’t clear out can be a buffet for the stray animals around this town.” He smirked. “I know I’m gross, but it’s hard to give a shit when everybody I torched was trying to kill me or someone I care about.” 

John nodded in agreement. “Not going to lie, I’m with you on that one.” He furrowed his brows, looking around. “The ringleader, Monroe. She’s dead? Actually dead?”

“Yeah. Uh... I won’t say how I know. I just do.” Stiles frowned. “You guys are going to have your hands full, talking to neighbors and relatives, making sure nobody else is going to come along and try to do what these guys couldn’t. If you even can manage that? Since they’re threatening to kill you, too. Maybe you should sit out and I could handle it?” 

“I’ve never sat back and let anyone else do my job for me, I don’t intend to now.” John murmured, reaching out to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “But I will be careful. Maybe walk around with a werewolf guard.”

“That works for me.” Stiles nodded. “I need to get to the loft and check on everyone. And then I need to figure out what the hell I’m cooking, to bring to school tomorrow. My culinary teacher says she’ll put me in a higher class if I can prove that I’m good.” 

“Well, we both know you’re just that good.” John told him. He looked thoughtful. “Why don’t you make one of your mom’s dishes?”

Stiles smiled. “After the day I’ve had, that would be a real improvement.” 

John chuckled, smiling back at Stiles. “You can introduce it to the pack, even. Show ‘em how good your food really is, you know? Show ‘em what they’ve been missing.” He hugged Stiles again. “Give me your suggestions for who you think I should promote to police bodyguard, and I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I need to go see Melissa and get checked out. Bastard that hit me gave me a hell of a headache.”

“Parrish and Clark.” Stiles said instantly. “They’re knowledgeable. Clark’s not a werewolf, but she’s Hayden’s sister. I know we can trust her.” 

John nodded. “Alright. I’ll talk to them both and we’ll come up with some kind of schedule until things die down around here.” He promised.

“Just keep checking in with me, okay? I don’t want to go through this again, ever.” Stiles shook his head. 

John squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “I’ll keep checking in.” He assured Stiles. “I’m definitely not wanting something like this to happen ever again. Though you were pretty damn impressive up there, kiddo.” He smiled at Stiles fondly. “You and Allison been practicing those maneuvers? Pretty sure she gave her dad a heart attack a few times.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, we did. All summer. I’ve been thinking about getting a harness or something, to make it easier on her. But it’s not like we would’ve had time for that, today.” 

“Well, I think you both did a pretty damn amazing job, with or without a harness.” John told him. He reached forward and tugged Stiles back into a hug, letting out an exhausted sigh. “I’m proud of you.” He murmured. “I really am. The things you did tonight were incredible.” He pulled back and smiled softly, patting Stiles’ cheek. “I’m going to go find Melissa and get us both home. I’m tired as hell right now.”

“You had better let her drive. You’re probably dealing with a concussion. If I hadn’t already killed Monroe, I’d kill her now.” Stiles made a face. “I shouldn’t say that in front of you. Probably.” 

“Probably, but if you’re right and I do have a concussion, I doubt I’ll remember much of it. Right now, I’m just proud. A lot of pride. And exhaustion.” He squinted at the sky. “And hungry. They didn’t feed me.”

“Dad, just come to the loft.” Stiles snorted. “Get in the car, in the passenger side, and I’ll drive over to Melissa and pick her up. It’s not like I can do much more damage with tires than I already have with my fire breath.” 

John snorted right back, his lips twitching. “Fine. I’m going.” He gestured at the car, making his way around to the passenger side and dropping inside with a sigh.

Stiles drove through the park, stopping near Melissa and leaning out through the open window. “Hey.” He gestured to the car. “Come on.” 

Melissa let out a small laugh, smiling at Stiles as she reached for the door and opened it before slipping into the backseat. “Curbside service, huh?” She teased. “Didn’t know I was that special.” She tapped John’s shoulder, peering around the seat at him. “How’re you feeling? Are you injured at all?”

John shook his head. “I’m alright. Got hit upside the head with god knows what when they grabbed me, but I’m okay, mostly. Stiles thinks I might have a concussion and I’m kind of inclined to agree.”

“Well, don’t fall asleep. I’ll keep an eye on you.” Melissa murmured, then sat back and focused on Stiles. “How about you? Are you feeling alright?”

“Tired and hungry.” Stiles muttered, looking at her in the rearview mirror as he drove toward the loft. “And I have an assignment I have to complete, before tomorrow.” 

“Is there food at the loft?” Melissa asked. “If there isn’t, we can swing by my house, and I can drum something up for you. I bet the rest of the pack is probably starving, too. That way, you can focus on working on your assignment without having to worry about making yourself and the pack something to eat, too.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Stiles smiled gently. “But my assignment is actually to bring in food, so I might as well cover all the bases at once. But you can help?” He parked in the lot, getting out of the car and opening the door for her, since it had the child locks enabled. “Guys, we’re here. I need to rest and I need someone to make a grocery run for me. Two or three of you can do it. And get my Jeep.” He glanced over at his dad and Melissa. “We’ll probably meet up with them in the elevator.” 

John nodded and slowly slid out of the cruiser, rubbing at his eyes. “I’d really like it if people trying to take me out would stop aiming for my head.” He muttered. 

Melissa grinned faintly and got out of the car as well, hurrying around and tucking John’s arm around her shoulder for support. She looked over at Stiles. “I’ll get him settled, and then, if you like, I can make the grocery run with one or two of the betas? Unless you’d rather I stick with him.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Stiles eyed the parking lot, sighing in relief when it was empty, since it meant that nobody was hanging around to wait to ambush them. He walked into the building, holding doors open for the adults before they took the elevator up to Derek’s floor. He wasn’t sure he should keep thinking of it that way, but it was safer than thinking of it as pack headquarters or something else he might call it in front of the wrong people. 

Erica met them just outside of the elevator as it opened up to Derek’s loft. She smiled crookedly. “Hey, Sheriff. Cora’s got Derek’s bed all cleaned up and stuff, if you wanna lie down.”

John laughed. “I appreciate it, thank you.” He and Melissa made their way toward the bed, and he groaned as he sat down, the events of the day finally catching up to him. He started to shut his eyes, then let out a loud noise of protest when Melissa smacked his arm. “Ow, what?”

“I said, no sleeping!” She chastised him. “Alright, no shopping for me. Obviously I have to stay here and make sure that you listen to what I tell you to do.”

Erica’s lips twitched as she watched them, and then looked up at Stiles. “Dude, your dad and Scott’s mom are totally into each other, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Stiles glanced at Scott, grinning. He got his keys out of his pocket. “Three of you need to go get my Jeep and go to the store.” He looked around the room, trying to decide who to send, before he handed the keys to Erica. “Take Boyd and Isaac.” 

Erica took the keys and saluted at him. “I’m on it, boss.” She told him, nodding. “Text me your grocery list, while we’re on our way.”

“I will.” Stiles nodded. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he got his phone out of his pocket, sending a text to Erica with everything he was going to need. He looked up when he was done, his gaze scanning the room. “Are the rest of you okay?” 

Scott looked at Stiles, rubbing at an already-healing wound across his forehead and gave him a thumbs up. “Lucky Monroe knew what she was doing and was still completely clueless. Half the people she ‘trained’ must have been watching too many werewolf movies or something.”

Allison, looking drained but happy, threw herself over a chair and kicked a leg up over the arm. “It happens. People watch supernatural movies, meet someone involved in the supernatural, suddenly assume they know all there is to know, and then fail spectacularly.” She smiled at Stiles. “I’m doing pretty good.”

Stiles laughed. “It says something about my mental state that I expected Lydia to correct you. I’m glad you’re okay.” He sat down on the couch. “I want to know what happened out there.” 

“Clark took one of the hunters to jail.” Hayden sat down by Stiles. “And something weird was happening around me, Mason and Liam. Anytime someone would get close, they’d get knocked down. I don’t know what was causing it, but it wasn’t some kind of backlash from you flying around.” 

Liam leaned forward in his seat. “I kinda thought it was Stiles’ tail at first, but… I mean, he wasn’t anywhere near us, and then it kinda seemed more like someone was psychically knocking people around.”

Scott dropped onto the couch beside Hayden, sandwiching her between himself and Stiles. “We don’t know anyone with psychic abilities. I mean… closest it comes is Lydia, really.”

Cora exited the kitchen and dropped an ice pack onto the Sheriff’s chest, earning a grunt from John and a grin from Melissa before she sat down cross legged on the coffee table. “Does it matter? Something with powers kept you safe.”

“For what purpose, though?” Stiles snorted. “I know I should just shut up and be grateful, but we don’t know anything about who or what did it. So we’ve got the invisible man - or woman - running around Beacon Hills. Why not tell us that they were around?” 

“Fear?” Allison suggested. “I mean, we were surrounded by people trying to kill all of us, and if they revealed themselves, the hunters would’ve been trying to kill them, too. So maybe they wanted to help, but didn’t want to be noticed doing it. Or maybe they just wanted to stay safe while they did it?”

Stiles nodded. “That makes sense. Whoever they are, I’m grateful, I just wish I could thank them in person. Anyway, we’re not safe. Not yet. People know about us now, and that’s a problem.” 

Scott grimaced and wrapped his arm around Hayden, holding her close. “Yeah, it is. What do we do now? I mean… one or two small incidents, we can write off, but the whole town saw half of us in ‘grr’ face, and… we can’t exactly cover up the fact that Stiles was flying around, being all Drogon.”

“Fuck you, I’m better than a CGI dragon.” Stiles smiled. “Tomorrow, we’re going to school like nothing happened. If anyone says anything to you, deny everything. That wasn’t us in the park, what do you mean there was a dragon, werewolves aren’t _real_.” 

“So all of a sudden, we’re Men in Black?” Mason laughed. “Hey, are neuralyzers real?” 

“Not yet.” Stiles grinned. “Lydia and Danny could make one. But yeah. Deny everything, pay attention in class, don’t do anything to get in trouble. You get detention, the whole pack has to get detention, I’m not leaving any of you vulnerable. You make me get detention, I’m kicking your ass.” 

Cora snorted, grinning. “What if you’re the one that gets detention first?” She asked. “What if it’s no one’s fault but yours?”

Stiles stared at her, unimpressed. “I kick my own ass on a daily basis. Verbally. How many days of school are left, anyway?” 

“One hundred and seventy-nine.” Mason said automatically. “What? We have a hundred and eighty days a year in school. We only got through one. Technically.” 

Stiles laughed, then looked around the room, licking his lips nervously. He doubted that they would like what he was going to say. “We’re coordinating our schedules, like we did last year. Nobody’s on their own, any day of the week. That goes for our parents, too.” 

Scott lifted a hand. “Well, I’ll be around my mom part of the time she’s home, obviously, but what about when she’s at the hospital?” He asked curiously. “I can’t exactly hang out there all the time. The nurses get kind of annoyed with me when I overstay by half an hour.”

“Liam’s stepdad is a doctor.” Mason reminded Scott. “But maybe we could volunteer there?” 

“I would do it, but I have to work, to afford my medication.” Hayden mumbled. “Unless...” She looked at Stiles. “Can you make me a dragon?” 

“Scott is still a true alpha.” Stiles nodded toward his best friend. “But there’s a risk. You could die, if the bite doesn’t take.” 

Scott looked at her worriedly. “If it’s something you want… I don’t want to risk you, but if it’s something you want, we could try? It’ll hurt at first, but… if it takes, you’ll heal. Really quickly. And you won’t ever need that medication again, so you and Val can stop working yourselves to the bone.”

Hayden smiled. “Yes.” She held her arm out. “Do it.” 

“Wait.” Stiles protested. “Talk to your sister first, let’s make sure she knows the risks of you doing this. In the end, it’s your choice. Not hers. But I don’t want to have to tell her that it didn’t work, if it doesn’t. You understand?” 

“Yeah.” Hayden folded her hands in her lap. “Tomorrow, then. After school.” 

Scott nodded and brushed a kiss against her temple, looking very nervous, but with a lot of anticipation. If the bite took, Hayden would be his first bitten beta. _When_ the bite took. He didn’t want to think about ‘if.’

Peter came down the spiral staircase, peering at everyone crowded inside the living room. “At some point, one of you should call the rest of your packmates and let them know what happened tonight. There’s a very real chance we may need to call them home at some point in the future.”

“I’ll do it now.” Stiles picked up his phone, then changed his mind and made a skype call on the tv. 

Jackson’s face appeared as the call connected, and he gave the group a two-fingered wave. “Well. You all look like shit. What the hell happened?”

“Derek didn’t tell you?” Stiles blurted. “Where the hell is he?” 

Jackson snorted. “He told us, he just disappeared to do… research or something, I don’t know. No, seriously, we thought you were just fighting some hunters. You look like you waded into a war.”

“Well, you’re right on both counts. There were maybe a hundred of them.” Stiles grimaced. “We’re all safe, and I think of the hundred, we got rid of ninety-nine and stuck the last guy in jail?” He looked at Hayden for confirmation, before looking back at the tv. 

“That explains the migraine I’ve had all day.” Lydia said hoarsely, sitting down beside Jackson. “And why I woke up with a sore throat. Do we need to come home?” 

“Not yet.” Stiles shook his head. “You’re safer there. We’ll deal with everything. You graduated early to go to MIT, you’re going to stay there.” 

Allison nodded, sitting up in order to peer at Jackson and Lydia properly. “I mean, don’t get us wrong, we miss you so much. But… we’d rather you be safe, you know?”

Jackson stared at them in confusion, straightening. “Shit. Things are really damn serious, aren’t they?”

“No, not at all, we were attacked by Lilliputians.” Stiles muttered. “Yes, they’re serious! Stay in Boston, stay safe. We’re handling it. If that changes, if we need more help, we’re definitely letting you know. Okay?” 

“You’d better.” Jackson grumbled, scowling at Stiles. 

“We _will_ ,” Scott answered firmly. “We were just calling to let you guys know, make sure that you were, you know. Aware of the situation.”

“Are you guys okay, out there?” Stiles asked softly, feeling guilty that he had snapped at Jackson. “Do we need to send someone to you?” 

Jackson seemed to sense what Stiles was saying, and he softened as well, shaking his head. “We’re good. We’ve just been worried about you. And, you know. Assimilating, or whatever. There’s a whale watching thing out here we’ve been talking about maybe seeing. And Derek’s been thinking about going back to school.”

“I thought he did that already?” Stiles yawned. “I need to go rest. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day and I still have a lot to do, tonight.” He looked around for someone he trusted to do the right thing, his gaze landing on Peter. “Can you just order pizzas for everyone? I was going to cook, to feed them and take care of something else I have to do, but I don’t want anyone having to wait for me to wake up.” 

Peter nodded silently. “Go, rest. There’s a bedroom up the staircase if you don’t want to crowd your father.”

Stiles gave Peter a grateful smile and left the room, trudging up the stairs. He felt exhausted, but he still set an alarm to wake him in a few hours. Despite everything else, he wanted the opportunity to be in a higher-level cooking class, to get the credits that would come along with that.


	18. The Visit

Stiles felt nervous as he walked into school, the next morning. He was carrying a small stack of plastic containers, and he could feel a lot of people watching him, teachers and students alike, as he went to his locker. 

“Is that-” One student whispered, leaning toward another and looking nervous.

“That’s him, that’s the Sheriff’s kid. I heard he’s some kind of monster.” Another student blurted, not doing anything to lower his voice.

“Monsters aren’t real,” the girl standing next to him snapped.

“Kim was there last night!” The boy insisted. “She said he roared and breathed fire!”

“He looks perfectly normal. And you don’t need to listen to Kim. She doesn’t live in reality half the time _anyway_.”

“I heard he turned himself into a dragon.”

“Dragons _aren’t real_!”

“Tell that to Mister Simmons!”

Stiles smiled to himself as he put his backpack into his locker, hanging it from the hook at the top. He unzipped it and reached in to get a pen, his fingers brushing against the flyer from the day before. He hadn’t even looked at it, he had been too busy. Now that he had a free moment, he unfolded it and smoothed it out. His gaze locked on ‘CIA’ at the top, and he blinked in confusion before he realized that it referred to the Culinary Institute of America.

Allison hurried to Stiles’ side, glancing around warily and more or less keeping her head down. “Okay so… praise for my acrobatics aside, I’m getting weird looks and lots of questions that I don’t know how to answer, so… I’ve pretty much been running away from anyone talking to me.”

Stiles held the paper out to Allison. “Does this count toward my list?” He asked quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking around at students passing them. 

Allison tugged the paper out of Stiles’ hand, glancing over her own shoulder and then turning toward him, her shoulder pressed to his so that they formed a triangle with the locker as the base. Her eyes skimmed over the paper carefully, narrowing before widening, her eyebrows shooting upward and her mouth falling open. She looked up at Stiles. “Uh. That depends, I think? On if you’ve had any other offers from anywhere else that has that particular abbreviation? I mean… you didn’t really put a firm time limit on the list, you just… put down a lot of stipulations that needed to be met first, and…” She looked back down at the paper. “I think this meets a stipulation.”

Stiles nodded, laughing. “And with the way things went yesterday, I can cross off another thing. The number of people thing. If anyone else tries to ask you questions while you’re in class, don’t leave the room. Just say you don’t know what they’re talking about.” 

Allison nodded, grimacing. “That’ll be difficult, but otherwise doable. Interactions with human-shaped people in mostly social settings usually triggers my flight response.”

“You talk to all of us, every day.” Stiles protested, smiling. “Want me to walk you to class?” 

Allison nodded fervently. “Yes, please. And also,” she lightly thumped his shoulder with her fist. “You’re different. You’re pack. I’m used to you. It’s other people I need to remember how to… be normal around.”

“Maybe you should get a job.” Stiles suggested. “Then you can interact with regular people every day and hate every second of it, but get paid anyway?” 

Allison scrunched up her nose. “Can’t I just… like, insist that saving Beacon Hills is my job and harass my dad for a paycheck?”

Stiles laughed. “No.” He shook his head, closing his locker. He balanced the containers in one hand, keeping the other on Allison’s shoulder as he guided her down the hall. 

Allison pressed close as they walked, holding her head high. “Do you want me to carry some of those?” She asked him after a moment, nodding at the containers. “What did you end up making, anyway?” She paused, and then looked hopeful. “If there’s any left, can I have some?”

“I have leftovers in the fridge already.” Stiles smiled. “It’s a lot of Polish food. Beet root salad, pierogi, potato soup, and paczki.” He glanced at her. “Jelly doughnuts, pretty much.” 

“They sound awesome, and I swear to god if the rest of the pack gets to any of it before I do, I’m going to… well, I’m going to cry, and then I’m going to kick whoever’s ass took the first bite.” Allison promised. She studied him for a moment. “Your mom was Polish, right? Did she make a lot of this stuff when you were younger? I mean… you learned to cook from her, right?”

“Yeah. She didn’t cook that much. My grandmother did, though. But I learned the basics from my mom. She loved making desserts, more than anything else.” Stiles paused, getting a little choked up. “Uh, she let me come up with my own recipes when I was about six, and even if they sucked, she still let me bake them and tried the food afterward.” 

Allison’s face softened, and she gently knocked her shoulder against Stiles’. Of everything they had in common, it felt bittersweet for the loss of a parent to be one of them. “She sounds lovely.” She murmured. “My mom… um, well, I never really got into the baking thing. Or cooking? I kind of suck at it. Immensely. But she loved it. She was always going all out, making dinners from these crazy ingredients, and baking cookies and cakes. It was weird, it was like she had this magic touch because it could be something she was making for the first time, and she made it like she’d done it a thousand times. They always came out perfect. Seemed that way, anyway.”

Stiles laughed. “I made butterscotch mint brownies, once.” He stopped near the culinary class. “Let me drop these off, and then we’ll walk around a little more?” 

Allison nodded. “Yeah, of course.” She murmured, and moved to lean against the door frame, out of Stiles’ way.

Stiles carried the containers into the classroom, giving his teacher a hesitant smile. “Hey. You’re going to want to warm the soup up, and probably the beet root salad, but the rest should be okay to eat without doing that.” He explained what was in each container, faltering when he looked up at her and saw a blank look on her face. “What... what’s wrong?” 

“Are the pierogies made with human meat?” 

Stiles blinked. “Excuse me?” He was even more confused when she burst out laughing. 

“I’m messing with you. I’m sorry.” The teacher flashed beta yellow eyes at him. “You’ll be safe in my classroom. Thank you for bringing this to me. We’ll talk about all of it later.” 

Stiles smiled, nodding slowly and leaving the room. He spoke quietly to Allison as he walked with her. “Mrs. Yates is a werewolf.” 

Allison looked startled as she followed along with Stiles, and then slowly began to look more understanding, and even a little thrilled. “This whole time? That’s amazing.” She looked around at the other students curiously before looking back at Stiles. “I wonder how many other people in this school have been keeping themselves a secret, like her.”

“Probably at least half of us.” Stiles mused. “So at least we know that we have teachers like her and Finstock, who won’t tolerate bullshit.” 

Allison smiled, nodding. “Thank god for that.” She murmured. “Having faculty-level back-up is always a good thing.”

**

By the time Stiles got to Mrs. Yates’ class, he was certain of a few things. One, nobody was going to attack him or the rest of the pack during the school day. Two, most of the other students were afraid of him now. He saw it as an advantage. 

“You should be running a restaurant.” The teacher told him, handing him the empty containers. “I hope you’re planning to make use of that paper I gave you, yesterday.” 

“I’m going to Columbia.” Stiles smiled. “I know a professor there and he’s worked out a way for me to get a scholarship.” 

“For cooking?” Mrs. Yates looked hopeful. 

“No. History. Medieval studies.” Stiles smiled crookedly, knowing he didn’t have to explain his fascination with that era. 

“I really want you to reconsider.” She shook her head. “Since we don’t currently have a guidance counselor, I told one of the office staff members to give you the credits for this and the other classes that you shouldn’t have to take. I’d like you to take a work-study option. If you don’t want to work in a restaurant, you could assist me, here. My beginners in this class need the help. Would you prefer that?” 

Stiles looked around, then nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Great! Put your backpack somewhere and teach some of the more - untrained students how to whisk an egg, would you?” 

Stiles laughed, shrugging as he followed her instructions. He stopped at a table that was already surrounded by wide-eyed freshmen and sophomores. 

“What are you even doing here? Can’t you just, like, cook food with your breath?” One of them smirked. 

“Only if I eat a lot of onions.” Stiles retorted. “I’m sort of the teaching assistant here, now. So shut up or I’ll give you detention.” He looked over at a boy who was looking everywhere else, not meeting his gaze. “And your name is?” 

“C-Corey.” The boy stammered. “I won’t do anything to piss you off, I swear.” 

Stiles felt the same sort of pull that he had felt with Liam and Mason. “If you can manage to make scrambled eggs, you can do anything else.” He said, filing that instinct away for later examination. “So let’s just start with that.” 

By the end of the period, Corey felt comfortable enough to approach Stiles while everyone else was talking, waiting for the bell to ring. “So, maybe you can help me with other stuff?” 

“What other stuff?” Stiles gave Corey a wary look. “Just say it.” 

“I know you’re a dragon.” Corey whispered. “But that’s not - I’m not a dragon. Just sort of similar? I mean, reptiles... or whatever. Chameleon.” 

Stiles smiled. “If that was you, yesterday? You don’t need my help.” 

“But there’s a whole group of you guys.” Corey protested. 

“So come have lunch with us.” Stiles suggested as the bell rang. “We wanted to thank you, anyway.” 

Corey felt dazed. He wanted to hide himself against the lockers or just blend in with the surroundings in the middle of the hall and make himself disappear altogether, but he kept his head down, his gaze on Stiles’ sneakers as he followed the senior. 

“Hey, Stiles!” Scott called, jogging down the hallway. “Hey, at some point, we need to take advantage of the fact that everyone around here, including the teachers, are looking at us weird but won’t say anything to us so we can go eat lunch off-campus.” He paused, looking at the younger boy behind his best friend and gave him a friendly smile. “Hi!” He thrust his hand out. “I’m Scott.”

“Hi?” Corey shook Scott’s hand. “I’m Corey.” 

“Corey is the invisible man, from yesterday.” Stiles laughed. “He expects me to be his Yoda, but I haven’t figured out yet if I can handle that.” 

“Sure you can.” Scott grinned. “You were _my_ Yoda, and you weren’t even wolfy, dude.” He turned back to Corey. “And dude, you’re totally a hero. Everything you did yesterday helped keep my friends and my girlfriend safe. I really appreciate it, thank you.”

Corey smiled. “You’re welcome.” He said quietly. 

Stiles gave Corey a curious look as he made the younger teen and Scott follow him into the lunch line. “How long have you been like this?” 

“A few years now. I don’t know why, I just kind of started blending in with stuff when I felt awkward. Which is all the time.” Corey admitted. “I’m the fourth of five kids, and the least athletic. My grades aren’t bad, but they’re about as average as I am, so I don’t get yelled at or praised, I guess?” He looked embarrassed. “And that’s a lot to unload on you.” 

“You’re not average.” Stiles shook his head. “How bad does it get?” 

“I’m not abused.” Corey blurted, looking defensive. “I just get ignored.” 

Scott smiled gently at him. “I can’t say I know how that is, but I’m sorry that it happens. The ignoring, I mean. I can guarantee you that you won’t get ignored here, everyone in this pack is too nosy for their own good.”

“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” Corey murmured. 

“Well, we take care of each other. And I want you to take the rest of this week and decide over the weekend if you want to be in our pack.” Stiles smiled. “I can’t pretend it’s fun all the time, as you noticed yesterday. And even if you say it’s not something you want, we’ll still have your back on things.” 

Scott drew a finger across his chest, smiling as well. “Cross our hearts, man.” He agreed. 

“I’ll think about it.” Corey dug change out of his pockets, counting out enough for his lunch. 

Stiles watched him, then glanced over at Scott, a determined look in his eyes. 

Scott glanced back at Stiles, his lips twitching, and he reached out to pat Stiles’ shoulder, nodding. 

Hayden looked up and grinned at Scott, waving to him from their table. She got a piece of paper out of her purse and held it out to Stiles when he sat down at the other side of the table from her. “Val brought this over for me. It’s a permission slip, and just in case you think that I forged it, that’s your dad’s signature and everything, right there.” She smirked. “Do I have approval now?” 

Scott let out a surprised laugh, leaning in to kiss her. “You’re the cutest, smartest, most clever -“

Allison threw a napkin at his head, smirking at him. “Hey! You’re making the rest of us feel bad!”

Malia smacked Scott as she walked past him, sitting down beside Allison. “Feel better?” She grinned. 

Ignoring the protesting yelp from her ex-boyfriend, Allison grinned back at Malia. “Much.” She murmured, leaning against her. 

“I told my dad that he has a year to find an apartment in New York.” Malia looked around the table. “Since I want to live there and I figure he does, too.” 

“Right.” At some point over the summer, Stiles had written out his spell again, in a new notebook. He handed the notebook to Scott, wanting him to see the crossed off lines. “Look.” 

Scott grabbed the notebook, peering at it and raising his eyebrows. “Dude.” He looked over at his best friend, and then his eyes drifted back to where ‘CIA’ was scratched off. “What the hell, does this mean you’re gonna be some short secretive black-suit guy?”

“No.” Stiles laughed. “The Culinary Institute of America has the same initials, and Yates wants me to apply there. I told her I’m going to Columbia, though.” 

“That’s awesome, though! I always knew your cooking was amazing, man.” Scott grinned at him.

Erica dropped down into her seat next to Stiles. “Of course his cooking is amazing. It’s only reasonable he’d get invited to a professional school for it.” She looked at Stiles, grinning crookedly. “If I kiss ass enough, can I choose the dessert you make for the next pack dinner?”

“That depends on what you want.” Stiles smiled. 

Erica’s eyes glinted. “Piña colada cheesecake. Heavy on the piña, light on the colada.”

Stiles laughed. “Don’t piss me off this week or it’s going to be rum raisin.” He hugged her. “I’m lying. I wouldn’t even eat that. Anyway, I’m getting four more credits for classes I don’t have to take, and I’m basically a TA for Yates now. I think it’s possible that we were freaked out over nothing, I don’t think Monroe’s cronies are going to try that shit again.” 

Allison furrowed her brows worriedly. “I want to agree with you, but… I don’t know. I still think we should be careful, keep our guards up. At least a little bit.”

“I wasn’t saying we should all walk out of here in beta and alpha form.” Stiles muttered. 

Allison winced. “No, I know. That wasn’t what I meant. I’m just…” She exhaled. “I guess I’m just nervous?”

“Did you just forget that I’m the most paranoid motherfucker at this table?” Stiles laughed, but he was still irritated. “I wouldn’t say we seem like we’re doing all right if I thought for a second that anybody wanted to hurt any of us.” 

Allison stayed quiet, looking down, but she nodded at his words, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

Stiles frowned, but he stopped himself from apologizing. He didn’t feel like he needed to, and he didn’t want to appear weak to anyone in listening distance. Hunters had never been their only concern, and he had a lot to think about, since other people had figured out that he was the alpha of the pack. Instead, he directed his attention to Corey again. “Regardless of how you feel about it, you should come to the meeting on Friday. No obligation to join.” 

Scott cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah, absolutely. Stiles cooks, and then we clean up, and then we sit down and watch a movie. It’s a really good night.”

“What kind of movies do you watch?” Corey looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve heard a lot of stuff about you guys.” 

Stiles put his hand over his eyes and shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Any movie. Any mainstream movie. Not porn or snuff films or whatever someone told you. Last week, we watched Clueless.” 

Erica groaned, thumping her head down on the table. “Stiles, you’re ruining the reputation I’ve very carefully not been hammering into people's heads by letting them infer what they want with what I don’t say!” She whined.

Liam approached the table slowly, scrunching up his face at her. “I don’t think I followed that.” He said, sitting down.

“Erica sad.” Stiles snorted. 

“Erica annoyed.” Erica scoffed, and threw a grape at him.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone here thinks.” Stiles sat up straight, looking at her. “You got to come back from the dead and you’re already making plans for what you’re going to do after graduation. Some people here have no idea. Look around, all right? At least ten people in this cafeteria are going to be in prison for meth or pot before they’re twenty.” 

Erica stared at him and blinked rapidly, suddenly looking a little shy and uncharacteristically meek. “Okay.” She said softly. She snaked a hand out toward Stiles’, squeezing it gently with a small smile.

Stiles smiled back at her. “I’m not letting anybody in this pack give up on themselves.” He looked around, his gaze lingering on Corey and Liam, in turn. “Okay?” 

Liam smiled at Stiles crookedly and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He murmured.

Corey nodded a moment later. He glanced at Mason, blushing a little and immediately looking back down at his tray. 

**

_Before I meet my one true love,_

_1\. I will finish college._  
2\. Everyone in my pack will get married.  
3\. I will take a walk around the world.  
4\. There will be a solar eclipse.   
5\. The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series.  
 ~~6\. I will be invited to join the CIA.~~  
7\. I will see the Mets play twenty home games.  
8\. I will molt once more.  
9\. Five people will give me something I didn't know I needed.  
 ~~10\. My pack will have twenty people or more in it.~~

After school, when he had dropped off Liam and Mason, Stiles drove to Peter’s apartment building. He hadn’t been there in nearly a year, and he felt strange as he made his way up to Peter’s apartment, like he had been caught swearing in church. The stained glass window didn’t help. He knocked, even though he thought it was pointless, since Peter must have heard him approaching. 

Peter opened the door slowly, raising his eyebrows as Stiles was revealed. “Hello.” He said carefully, tilting his head.

“I know you have a copy of my list. My spell.” Stiles smiled. “Can I see it?” 

Peter cleared his throat. “What makes you think I have it?” He asked, though he did step back in order to allow Stiles to enter the apartment.

Stiles walked in, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you going to pretend that you don’t? Because I won’t leave until I get a chance to look at it, and I can be really annoying when I want to be. And sometimes when I don’t want to be.” 

Peter rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and sighed. “Fine, yes, I have a copy.” He muttered. He walked over to one of his bookshelves and opened a book before removing a sheet of paper from it. He thrust the paper at Stiles without looking at him.

Stiles wandered around the apartment until he found a pen. He crossed off the two items that had come to pass, then set the pen aside and walked back over to Peter, holding the sheet of paper out to him. “There. You know, I’ve never been in here before.” 

“I know. I’ve never invited you in here before.” Peter replied, glancing at Stiles and taking the paper. He stared down at it for a brief moment, and then folded it and put it back in the book before setting the book back on the shelf. “The only person who has been here other than my family is Lydia.”

“Why was she here?” Stiles shook his head. “I mean, she - she doesn’t seem like she would have come here for anything.” 

“Why else does she willingly interact with me for anything?” Peter looked at Stiles. “She needed answers for something, I had the answers, and she came to yell at me until she got them.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her.” Stiles looked around, intrigued by Peter’s furniture. He eyed the bookshelves, but didn’t go over to read the titles there, since he wasn’t sure he was welcome. 

Peter watched him, and then gestured at the shelves. “Go ahead. If I was worried about you being around my books, I wouldn’t have invited you in.”

Stiles looked relieved. He walked over to the shelves, trailing his fingers over the book spines as he read them. He realized a moment too late that he was leaving his scent all over everything, but he felt more inclined to keep going, not less. 

Peter’s fingers twitched, a look on his face that obviously spoke of wanting to tell Stiles to keep his hands to himself, but he didn’t move. Instead, he clenched his hands over the back of a chair, staring intently at Stiles. 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Peter. “Sorry.” He folded his arms across his chest, mostly to keep his hands tucked under his arms, as he looked around the room again. “I just came here to cross that stuff off. I should go.” 

Peter cleared his throat. “There’s… no reason for you to go so soon.” He murmured. “You could stay for a bit longer. I have other things you’d likely be interested in.” He glanced behind him at the walls and tables covered in various mediums of art, then at the shelves filled with dvds before looking back at Stiles. “If you’d like, I mean.”

Stiles hesitated. “Are you sure? Because you kind of look like you want me to go.” 

“I’m sure.” Peter said firmly, clearing his throat. 

Stiles smiled softly. “Okay.” He walked over to the dvds, clasping his hands behind his back to keep himself from touching anything else as he read the movie titles. He laughed, looking at Peter again. “You have a bunch of the movies we’ve watched, in the order we watched them. You don’t believe in the alphabet?” 

“They’re recent additions.” Peter muttered. “Everything else is organized the way it should be.”

“I’m leaving them how they are, even though I don’t want to. Like, actively.” Stiles murmured. A blue shadow appeared on the wall beside him, and Stiles turned to look at what was making the color appear on the wall. A crystal globe rested on a round table, and didn’t seem to have much of a purpose, as far as he could tell, other than being decorative. He doubted that Cora and Malia used it for their education. “I’m definitely not touching this.” He remarked, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked toward it. “I’m still kind of clumsy and I’d just break it. I’d ask how much it costs, but I don’t want or need to know. It’s pretty, though.” 

“Thank you.” Peter said quietly. “It was a gift. Talia gave it to me.” He stared at it for a moment. “It was one of the few things to survive the fire, probably because it was on the side of the house that hadn’t immediately gone up in flames.”

“It’s not - I’m not trying to offend you.” Stiles said carefully. “But it’s kind of unusual, as presents go. Why did she get you this?” 

Peter smirked faintly, an amused expression on his face as he gazed down at the globe. “I was her enforcer, did I ever tell you that? From the time I turned sixteen, I was expected to be at her side at all times, take care of her dirty work, essentially be the one dealing with potential dangers and uprisings from any threat that might have come after us and our family. She called me her Left Hand, because of the connotations, and because… well, she was a dork, frankly. She was left-handed, I acted with her authority, ergo, the Left Hand. The problem was, it meant I needed to stay fairly close to home. There were a few trips around California, a few outside of the state, but never anywhere really… exotic, I suppose.” His eyes flickered up to Stiles. “The day she got me the globe, she hugged me and told me she was sorry that I couldn’t go traveling, but then she sort of smiled and joked that the globe was her way of wanting me to see the world.” He gestured dismissively. “Dork humor.”

Stiles laughed. “I think that sounds sweet, though.” He walked over to the window, looking out at the city and thinking about how his dad might not have had another day. “If I could bring everyone back, I’d do that. But it... it wouldn’t be right.” He muttered. 

Peter was silent, staring at the reflection the globe created on the wall. “I suppose it would be too much to ask.” He murmured, his mind drifting as he thought of his older sister.

“It’s not that.” Stiles protested. “It’s just that if I do that for everyone, death stops meaning something and everybody’s going to want me to do it.” He bit his lip, thinking. “But if you really think you need her to be here, I could do it.” 

Peter hesitated, pursing his lips together. “If you brought her back, it would be for Cora and Derek. Not for me.” He said eventually. 

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Are you okay, after yesterday?” 

Peter smiled crookedly, not really looking that amused. “I’m fine. Still wondering who that infant learned from in order to almost successfully organize half the town against us.”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Stiles muttered. “I probably should have kept her alive and made her talk.” 

“Mm. I prefer her being dead. It’s not as though she would have talked. She believed she was in the right to act the way she did. She believed we were all monsters, just vermin that needed to be…” Peter trailed off, his eyes going distant, and then he rolled his eyes. “Oh, hell. I know who helped her.”

“Yeah, I kind of got it, too.” Stiles’ lips twitched. “Let’s just go kill him. I don’t have any homework, I’m not busy.” 

Peter really did look amused that time, raising his eyebrows. “Why, Stiles, are you asking me on a date?” He teased.

“If I was asking you on a date, I’d just ask you.” Stiles shrugged. “Think of this as being more like a business thing.” 

“Hmm. Alright.” Peter inclined his head. “Where do you propose we start?”

“We’re going to need to talk to Chris Argent. He’s the only one who knows where Gerard would be.” Stiles didn’t feel the least bit thrilled with the idea. “We might as well call Allison, first.” 

“Well, don’t look at me.” Peter snorted. “Just because my child is fascinated with her doesn’t mean I have her number on me.”

“I have her number, that’s not the point. It’s not the easiest thing in the world to call someone and say, ‘hey, tell us where your dad is, so we can kill him.’ I don’t think Chris will appreciate that. Is there even a tactful way to say that?” 

“No, but if you call her and have her put her father on the line, I can take over from there.” Peter’s eyes glinted, and a smirk crossed his lips.

Stiles laughed and called Allison. “Hey, I have a favor to ask. Can I talk to your dad?” 

“Sure?” Allison replied, sounding confused. “Yeah, let me go get him. Hang on.” The line went quiet for a moment, and several minutes later, Allison picked the phone back up. “Hey, Stiles, here he is.”

Chris cleared his throat before taking the phone. “What can I do for you?”

Stiles held the phone out to Peter. “Your turn.” 

“Hello, Christopher.” Peter said as soon as he took the phone from Stiles. “Let me make this as unbelievably simple as I possibly can. Your father was involved in the recent attempt to murder your daughter and her pack. If you know his location, tell me now, and prepare to wear your mourning clothes.”

Chris was silent for a very long time before he finally spoke. “He’s in the same assisted living facility he’s been in since Scott forced Derek to bite him: Horizon Skies.” 

Peter looked a bit curious at Chris’ response, his eyebrows shooting up. “You answered quickly. Are you not overly concerned with your dear old dad’s impending demise, Chris?”

“You said it yourself - he was involved in a town-wide coup that tried to take out my daughter.” Chris replied. “How would you feel?”

“Fair enough.” Peter murmured thoughtfully. “Alright, then. Thank you for your cooperation. Tell your youngling we’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone quickly and tossed it back at Stiles. “Not as grief-stricken as I thought he’d be.”

“Maybe I should invite him to be in this pack.” Stiles grinned, deliberately trying to irritate Peter now that things seemed to be getting back to the usual pattern of death and panic. 

Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “Cute. We have a location, so I suggest we move, whelpling.” He made a ‘shooing’ gesture at Stiles, raising his eyebrows. “Move along now.”


	19. The Maze

Stiles woke up, rubbing his forehead as he sat up and tried to regain his bearings. The room was pitch black and the floor felt like concrete. Without warning, a voice spoke over an intercom, startling him. 

“It’s about time you woke up, Stiles.” Gerard sounded like a typical old man, just mocking a teenager. 

Stiles knew better. “What the hell do you want?” He muttered, not even certain that the old man could hear him. 

“What I want is for us to play a game.” Gerard said patiently. “I thought your pack was being run by Scott, who would have willingly accepted death, instead of doling it out to those who might be deserving. Instead, it turns out that you’ve been in control for some time now, and I’m a little disappointed in myself for not seeing that sooner.” He paused. “No matter. I’ve set up a maze of one hundred rooms for you to wander through, and I hope you appreciate the effort I put into this. Should you survive, I’ll be expecting gratitude when I see you face to face. But I know I won’t be so lucky. You’d better get started, your pack is waiting for you.” 

Stiles got to his feet. The room was so dark that he couldn’t see more than three feet in front of him, and he didn’t have the benefit of werewolf vision to help him out. His cell phone was gone, predictably, so there was no chance of calling anyone for assistance. He shuffled toward the nearest wall, bracing a hand on it and using that to guide him forward, until he got to one corner of the room. Once he was there, he turned and kept moving forward, nearly falling sideways when the wall suddenly stopped. He moved his left hand, his breath caught in his throat until he found the other end of what appeared to be a doorway. Bracing a hand on either side of it, he moved forward - and then his feet went out from under him and he landed on his back, on an iced-over floor. He brought a hand to the back of his head carefully, checking for bleeding. He was fine, so he moved onto his hands and knees, not trusting himself to walk even a step further. 

“Trapped under the ice, you’ll find a key.” Gerard spoke again. “You’ll need that to open the door into the next room.” 

Stiles looked up, even though he knew he wouldn’t see Gerard over him, and scowled. 

“There’s no need for that.” Gerard scoffed. “I’m watching you very closely. I think you’ll find a solution, if you really want to try.” 

Stiles breathed fire over the floor, his hands splashing in the resulting puddle as he felt around for the key. He wanted to ask what had happened to his pack, since he knew better than to think they were safe, but he didn’t want to give Gerard the satisfaction of hearing him beg for answers. Time slowed to a crawl as he moved around the room, his jeans getting soaked by the melting ice. He was thirsty, but he didn’t dare drink from the water surrounding him. When nearly every square inch of the ice had been melted away, Stiles rubbed his sore throat and tried to remember what had happened to get him into this situation. He and Peter had intended to kill Gerard, but other hunters had been waiting for them and ambushed them in Gerard’s room. He nearly cried out in relief when he got the key and stood up, his hand bumping against a doorknob. The arrogant bastard had hidden the key right in front of the door. Stiles rolled his eyes as he unlocked the door and moved forward, doing his best to ignore Gerard’s laughter. 

In the darkness of the third room, red LED lights stood out, and Stiles moved toward them cautiously. The numbers read ‘90:00’ and he knew that it wasn’t an alarm clock he was encountering. A key was inserted into a lock at the top, and he bit his lip as a light turned on over a door, at the other end of the room. 

“You’re going to want that key.” Gerard remarked. “You’d better take it.” 

Stiles grimaced, but he turned the key and started the countdown, racing across the room and unlocking the door. He slammed the door shut behind him, even though he knew that was kind of pointless, and wondered what sort of horrors were waiting for him, when he turned around. Instead of ticking bombs or ice-covered darkness, he was in a reasonably well-lit room, and the only thing to be found was a folded-up blanket. He picked it up carefully, expecting to see something underneath, but there was nothing. “Why are you doing this to me?” 

“Why are you aligning yourself with the man who murdered my daughter?” Gerard asked. “Why let him live when you were so eager to kill someone who merely hurt your father? Is your dad’s life more valuable than anyone else’s? And what about the rest of your pack? All Tamora wanted was to make you see that you’re not innocent. She failed. I refuse to fail. That bomb you activated is still counting down, and you only have about eighty-nine minutes to get yourself to safety before it explodes.” 

Entrance to the fifth room didn’t require a key, but Stiles kept the ones he had already used, just in case. He also kept the blanket that Gerard had left for him, certain that he would need it later. He wasn’t as stupid as the old man seemed to believe. “When I get out of here, you’re going to die.” He looked up, wondering where the cameras were. They were well-hidden. 

“I don’t think killing me will be your highest priority.” Gerard laughed. 

Room five was completely empty, which had him confused - until he saw room six. From one end to the other, mouse traps lined the floor. “Dude, you’ve seen Home Alone way too many times.” Stiles snapped. He sighed when there was no answering retort, studying the room for a minute. He smirked to himself and leaned down, picking up the closest trap and throwing it onto the trap in front of it. Both traps snapped, rendering them useless, and he picked them up and threw them again, a little further ahead this time. He crossed the room when he had enough safe traps to stand on, jumping from one to the next. “Fucking psycho.” He muttered. 

Rooms seven and eight were pitch black again, but didn’t even have entry doors. 

Room nine did, and Stiles studied the shape of the locking mechanism before he realized that it was the same size and shape as one of his beta form scales. He shifted, biting his lip as he yanked one away from his skin and pressed it into the lock. 

Room ten was well-lit and had weights, which Stiles dutifully picked up and wrapped in the blanket, since that made everything easier to carry. 

Room eleven had Scott. 

Scott looked up, in full beta-shift and snarling until he realized who was facing him. The shift melted away immediately. “Oh my freaking god,” he blurted, throwing himself at Stiles. “Dude, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Stiles hugged his best friend. “Same goes.” He blurted. “This asshole didn’t need me to have more of a cause to kill him, but now I do.” He decided not to mention that he wasn’t as okay as Scott believed he was. “Okay, listen. I think this whole thing wraps around. It has, so far.” He murmured. “Not that it’s important right this second, but I was stumbling around in the dark for a little while and I don’t know if there’s going to be more of that.” 

Scott scowled in the direction of the ceiling, looking around for a camera before shaking his head. “Knowing the jerkoff that put us in here? Probably.”

Stiles grimaced. “And... there’s a bomb. Don’t freak out. Just stay calm, we need to get out of here. Okay?” 

Scott gulped and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. How much time do we have?” He asked, already hurrying toward the exit he’d been unable to open, even with his extra strength.

“Eighty minutes.’ Gerard answered, sounding far too pleased with himself. 

Stiles held the blanket and weights out to Scott, then grabbed the keys from his pocket and fit one of them in the lock, opening the door. He studied it for a second, then looked at Scott. “Steel.” He muttered. “That’s why you were stuck in here. I’m guessing this whole thing is steel and concrete.” He walked into the room ahead of Scott, eyeing the three bottles of water on a table warily. They hadn’t been opened, and he was thirsty, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it. Another hour and a half without water wouldn’t kill him. 

Scott seemed to be thinking along the same lines, gulping roughly before he looked at Stiles. “Come on. Let’s keep moving.” He said softly, and pushed forward.

Stiles started to follow Scott, but he changed his mind and went back, grabbing the bottles. He gripped them in one arm, then stared down at the table and decided to pick it up and bring it with him. Trying to carry everything was difficult, but he wasn’t taking any chances and leaving anything behind. He had played enough video games to know how that turned out. “Wait.” He called out to Scott. “I have a bad feeling about this. That’s not a joke or a duh moment, just... just wait.” He set the table down, then put the bottles of water down beside it and lifted the table again. He threw it through the doorway, into the room, stumbling backward as the table hit the floor and knives launched from the walls. “Jesus!” 

Scott’s arms flew around Stiles, tugging the other teen back against him, as far from the knives as possible even as his eyes bulged out. “Holy crap.” He blurted, clutching at his best friend. “Okay. Okay, how do we… how the hell do we get past this?” He whispered, looking at Stiles and doing his best to keep his voice low, to keep Gerard from hearing him.

“There’s a trigger mechanism in the floor.” Stiles whispered back. “If I shift now, I’m not going to get through the doorway, so I can’t fly you to the other side of the room. But if you think you can jump from here to that table, that trigger’s already been, uh, set off? So you should be able to catch me, so long as we don’t stumble when you do. And then I can shift, once I’m in the room, and I’ll just have to fly you over to the doorway and have you unlock the door. I don’t know how we’re going to get the blanket and the weights, and the water and the table out of here, though. Wait.” He cleared his throat, wishing the water didn’t look so tempting, as he held his hand out to Scott. “Give me the blanket and the weights.” 

Scott looked confused, but nodded, pressing the blanket and weights into Stiles’ hands. “What have you got in mind?” He asked cautiously, looking worried.

“This.” Stiles tied the ends of the blanket closed, then threw the blanket into the room, past the table. More knives launched from the walls, and he glanced at Scott. “I think that’s good enough to get us into the room, now. We’re going to have to stay low for the rest of it, but the door is on one of the knife walls.” He pointed. 

Scott’s gaze followed Stiles’ finger, and he looked back at Stiles, nodding. “Okay. We can do it. Come on.” He started moving, keeping himself low.

Stiles got the bottles of water before he followed. He used the table to trip the last mechanisms, smirking at the camera as he grabbed a few of the knives and put them in the blanket bag. He waited for Scott as he tried to guess what was on the other side of the door. “Hold on.” He muttered. “Okay. Okay. The first room was where I woke up, and there was nothing else in there. The second room, the key was trapped under the ice. The whole floor was ice. Then the bomb, then the blanket. Then nothing, then mouse traps. Uh... Sorry. I think they clubbed me, my head hurts. Two rooms were empty, after that. Then I had to use one of my scales to open a door. Then the weights, then you, then the water, then the knives, here. And there was nothing in the room with you, right? So if it’s some kind of pattern, then this room... this room should be safe.” He opened the door, leaning in slowly to peer past the door frame. “I don’t see anything. Do you? Any kind of sensor or something?” 

Scott listened for a moment, peering around the corner with Stiles, his brow furrowed. “I don’t hear anything. I don’t see anything either. It’s… just an empty room.”

Stiles nodded. He threw the table through the doorway anyway, just to be sure, then relaxed when nothing happened. “Okay, let’s just keep going.” 

Scott nodded, crossing the room and reaching the other side quickly, gripping one of the table’s legs in his hand and dragging it with him, just in case. He tried the door, frowning a little until it gave under his touch, then jumped when he spotted the shape inside the room. “Holy shit,” he blurted, his eyes widening.

Stiles didn’t hesitate, running through the doorway and tossing his collected items aside as he knelt down beside Peter. “Hey.” 

Peter stared at Stiles blankly for a minute, and then sighed. “How in the hell did that old bastard get one over on us?” He asked. “What did we miss?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles shook his head. “But I’ve got something for him, that’s for sure.” He tilted his head toward the blanket, where he was keeping the knives he had gathered. “Are you okay? I mean, can you stand?” 

Peter rolled over and then rose to his feet slowly. “I’m fine, I’m up.” He assured Stiles, rubbing a hand over his head. He looked around the room, sharp eyes pinpointing the cameras easily. “I’m really going to enjoy giving you your comeuppance, you sadistic bastard.” He muttered.

“I believe that you’ll try once more, and you’ll also fail once more.” Gerard remarked. “Excellent work so far, boys. This has been informative.” 

Stiles scowled. “How much money do you think he charged for tickets, for people to watch this?” 

“I don’t wanna think about that.” Scott mumbled, scowling. “I just want to get out of here before that bomb goes off.”

Peter was alert instantly. “Bomb? There’s a bomb set to go off?”

“Yeah.” Stiles frowned at Scott. “We’ve got more than an hour, but we do need to get moving. Gerard said this place has a hundred rooms and we haven’t even cleared twenty, yet.” 

Scott grimaced, looking apologetic. “Sorry.” He sighed. “I just want us to get out of here, I want to get back to Hayden.” His eyes widened in panic. “Oh, crap, unless she’s here, too. We need to hurry.”

“I know.” Stiles nodded. “Grab whatever you can carry and let’s move.” He walked over to the other door, opening it and frowning at the line of mountain ash. He tried to break it, but it wouldn’t move. “Okay. Peter, don’t freak out.” He said quickly, breathing fire onto the barrier. “Scott, I hate to say this, but I really need one of those bottles of water.” 

Scott looked over at him worriedly, but grabbed one of the bottles and passed it over to Stiles silently.

Peter watched with a furrowed brow, peering into the room past the mountain ash. Every step they took brought them closer to Gerard, whom Peter was despising more and more.

Stiles gulped down some of the water, rubbing his throat. He shook his head. “There’s a loaf of bread on the floor, that’s all that we’re going to find in there. Run through and grab it, and keep going.” He moved as soon as he finished speaking. 

Peter was after him in an instant, ducking low and scooping up the bread as he went.

Scott followed in a rush after both of them.

In the next room, Stiles found Kira, but he kept moving past her, toward the door. “Does she have a pulse?” He asked quietly. 

“She’s alive.” Scott confirmed. “I’ve got her.” He bent and swept Kira up into his arms quickly, all without stopping as they raced toward the next door. He slapped lightly at her face in an attempt to wake her up.

Stiles had to use one of the keys again to unlock the door, and he looked around warily as he heard a grinding noise. The walls retracted into the floor, leaving a hallway that led to a door he was certain he hadn’t been through, yet. 

“What’s going on?” Kira nudged Scott. “Put me down, I’m okay. I think?” 

“Grab things and keep going.” Stiles shook his head. “We’ll talk while we move.” He called out over his shoulder as he ran toward the door at the end of the hallway. “There’s a bomb, there’s about an hour left on it, we’ve got about eighty rooms to go before we’re out of here. Assuming that fucker isn’t lying. Gerard kidnapped us I’m guessing he had a lot of help, since he’s a geriatric son of a bitch.” He got the door unlocked, peering in at Erica. “Oh, thank god.” 

Kira looked confused as she tried to make sense of Stiles’ frantic rambling. “Wait, can you just start over?” 

Stiles glared at her. “Seriously?!” 

“Run!” Peter snapped at her. “Just keep up pace and run, that’s all you need to understand!”

Scott moved away from Kira and gently shook Erica’s shoulder. “Erica, hey. Come on, get up, we gotta go, we gotta get out of here.”

Erica groaned, sitting up and shoving Scott away from her. “What the fuck happened?” She growled as she got to her feet. She glanced at Stiles, and then around at the others before muttering, “Never mind, get me the fuck out of here.”

“That’s my girl.” Stiles muttered, smirking as he opened the other door in the room and looked at a flight of stairs. “Come on!” He blurted, running up the stairs. “Carrying all of this shit is driving me crazy, but trust me, we need it. I’m not leaving any person or any object behind. If you’ve got a free hand, grab something and keep going.” At the top of the stairs, there was a locked door, and Stiles opened it cautiously, relieved to see Liam inside, instead of any number of life-ending threats. 

Liam looked startled to see Stiles before an expression of immense relief crossed his face. He jumped up as the others came toward him. “Oh my god, I’ve never been so happy to see people in my whole life.” He blurted. 

“Yeah, great.” Stiles nodded. “Get up and keep moving. Are you thirsty? Hungry?” He got the door open. “Somebody throw the table in there, see what happens.” He demanded. “And give Liam a bottle of water.” 

“Alright, boss,” Erica snorted, tossing Liam a bottle of water.

Scott, still carrying the table by the leg, chucked it into the next room, waiting to hear if it triggered anything. He looked back at Stiles and shook his head before taking the first step inside the next room.

Stiles hurried after him. “Don’t do that again.” He snapped, then shook his head. “Scott. If anyone’s going first into a room, risking getting hurt, let me do it.” 

“Stiles.” Scott said firmly, looking at his best friend. “We need our Alpha. If getting you out of here means… taking a hit of whatever comes my way, you better believe I’ll put myself in harm’s way to make sure you stay safe.”

“Argue later?” Stiles muttered. He picked up a first-aid box, eyeing it carefully before he chucked it at the wall, bracing himself for an explosion. “Okay, I think that’s safe.” 

“Wonderful.” Peter snorted, breezing past Scott and scooping the box (and some of the items that had fallen out) up. “What do we have next?” He glanced at Stiles expectantly. 

“Person, item...” Stiles muttered. “Something we don’t wanna deal with, right through there.” He pointed at the door. “I’m killing Gerard and whoever helped him build this place.” He tried not to think about the dwindling time on the bomb as he unlocked the door, opening it carefully. He heard snarling as soon as the door opened, and he moved without thinking, throwing his bottle of water and hitting the feral werewolf in the head. 

“Erica!” Peter growled, nodding toward the omega and rushing it immediately. 

Erica snarled in response, lunging at the omega and wrapping her arm around its neck, squeezing tightly until the lack of air made it pass out. She straightened and wiped her hands off, then, turning her back when she heard a wet squelching noise. 

Peter stood, his fingers bloody and arterial spray across his face. “Moving on.”

Stiles felt inappropriately turned on as he glanced at Peter, but he didn’t bother commenting on it. Instead, he unlocked the next door. “Person.” He guessed, opening the door to see if he was right. He sighed in relief when he saw Cora. 

Cora turned at the sound of her name, and her eyes widened in relief, though the rest of her expression didn’t change. She moved toward Peter immediately, dropping her head to his shoulder. “Thank fuck.” She muttered.

Peter stroked a hand over her back, letting out a laugh. “Ah, _mo chailín fiáin_ ,” he murmured affectionately. “You’re alright. _Neartú féin_. Let’s move.”

Stiles gave Peter and Cora a curious look as he passed them, getting the next door open. There were three tables inside, identical to the one that they were still carrying around, and each one was piled high with meat. Everything from beef jerky to raw steak, all in sealed packages, would have been a welcome sight if anyone but Gerard had put it there for them to find. The room was cold enough to keep the raw meat from spoiling. He eyed the small group of pack members in front of him. “Okay. Carry everything you can, and keep the tables, too. I mean, this one came in handy, already.” He gestured to the one Scott was clutching. “We don’t know what else we’re walking into, but as long as we have supplies, we should be all right. I think this is more about Gerard and his pals seeing what we’re going to do in every single room we come across, and so far? They’re getting worse as we go.” He didn’t wait, letting them decide what they would each carry, as he opened the door into the next room. It was empty, so he kept going. His stomach rumbled as he thought about the roasted chicken that he was trying to ignore. Gerard must have been watching all of them for at least the past year. When he got the next door open, a wall of flame passed from the left to the right. He sighed, shaking his head. “Hey, give me one of the raw steaks, please?” He glanced over his shoulder, then turned and held a hand out for the requested meat. 

Cora plopped a steak right into his hand, watching him curiously. “What, are you gonna roast it?” She asked, squinting a little into the room. 

“I’m hoping not to, actually.” Stiles threw the steak on the floor of the room, watching as the fire flared from the right side of the room, this time. He grimaced at the sight of the charred meat. “Okay.” He pulled his shirt off over his head, then took off his shoes and peeled himself out of his jeans, which were still soaked from the room with ice. 

“Wait, wait,” Scott blurted, looking alarmed. “What are you planning to do?”

Peter also looked concerned, straightening. He almost reached for Stiles’ arm before gripping his niece’s instead, fingers tightening around her forearm. “Stiles…” he began warily. “Whatever your plans are…” His face did something complicated, then, and he sighed. “Be careful.”

Stiles nodded. “I will be. It’s just that these waves of flame are coming about every ten seconds, or so.” He muttered. “And if I shift and take on most of the heat, I think I’ll be okay and you guys can run past me on whatever side is the safe one.” 

Peter shook his head, exhaling slowly. “You’re a madman.” He said simply, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips. “I trust you know what you’re doing, so do it.”

Stiles took off his underwear and stepped through the doorway, shifting to his alpha form. He stood in the center, giving the betas enough space to get past him on either side. He had left the keys to the other door in his jeans, but he trusted that someone would get the door unlocked for him. The first wave of flames hit him on his right side, and he roared in pain, but stayed still. 

Peter pushed Cora gently away from him, doing the same for Erica and the others. “Go! While he’s taking the brunt of it, go!”

Kira grabbed Stiles’ wet jeans and removed the keys, then held them out to Liam. “It’s going to sound stupid, but put these on, over your arms. And keep your arms up, to protect your face. They’re wet enough that they won’t catch on fire as easily as other stuff. Just in case.” 

Liam looked bewildered, but nodded, doing as she said. The jeans went over his arms, and then his arms went up, even as he shook a little in fear. “Oh my god, okay,” he breathed out roughly. “Push me, will you?”

Kira shoved Liam as soon as the path was clear, and she moved to the other side of the doorway, preparing to run through when she had the chance. 

Scott came up behind them, gripping Erica’s arm when she stumbled a little too far past him and toward the danger. “Hey, whoa,” He murmured.

Erica gripped Scott’s arm tightly, grimacing as she got too close to a stream of heat. “Holy shit.” She blurted, her eyes wide. “Thanks, Scott.”

Scott nodded sharply. “No problem.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how much damage had been done to him. He was able to withstand the fire, but he didn’t like the idea of being stuck there even a second longer than he had to. Still, he knew that he had to, to protect the rest of the pack. 

Peter swallowed roughly, staring at the flames. He had the timing down, he could easily get past if he needed to, but a glance at Stiles had him hesitating. He looked back at the fire, furrowing his brows and cringing as he imagined his own smoking, charred body once more, and then let his gaze drift back to Stiles. Taking a deep breath, he made his decision and bolted just before the fire clicked on again, running across the room. It wasn’t until he made it to the doorway that he realized his shirt sleeve had caught fire, and he cursed explosively, dashing his shoulder into the wall in an attempt to tamp it out.

Kira grabbed the wet jeans from Liam and wrapped them around Peter’s arm. She wasn’t sure who he was and also wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

Stiles shifted from alpha form to his beta form, hoping the the scales would be enough to protect him from the fire as he ran through the room. He made it, but barely, and couldn’t stop coughing as he got dressed. 

Scott hovered near him, overwhelmed with worry. “What did the fire do to you? Were your scales enough? Are you hurt? Are you healing?”

“Scott, breathe.” Erica looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. She looked back at Stiles, reaching a hand out to touch his arm, and shuddered when a small sliver of a black vein began to trail up her own arm, followed by several other small ones. “Holy shit, you can take a hit.” She muttered, shaking her head. “Liam, grab a bottle of water for Stiles, will you?”

Liam nodded, glancing at Peter for a moment before walking toward the dragon. He cracked the bottle of water open and handed it to the other teen, smiling tentatively. “Thanks. For… you know. Doing that. It was insanely brave.”

“Insane is the word for it.” Peter grumbled, but the expression on his face was one of admiration as he gazed at Stiles. “Stiles. Fire bad.” 

Stiles snorted, rubbing his nose when he exhaled smoke. “Seize the moment, ‘cause tomorrow you might be dead.” He shrugged, then glanced at Liam. “It wasn’t exactly bravery.” He muttered. “I’m getting us the fuck out of here and then I'm killing everyone responsible for us being here. It’s... let’s just go.” 

Peter reached out to grip Stiles’ arm gently and led the younger man toward the next door, a determined look on his face that said he wasn’t planning on letting go.

Cora and Erica followed, Erica looking mildly woozy from the amount of pain she’d drained from Stiles.

Cora simply looked annoyed and borderline exhausted, allowing Erica to briefly lean on her before she pushed the blonde away.

Scott followed behind Stiles and Peter silently, feeling nervous and trying to ignore the tremors rolling across his skin. As they opened the door to the next room, his eyes widened. “Danny!” He blurted, and started to race inside, only stopping when he actually had his foot inside the threshold. He looked around cautiously, and then took a step back and looked at Stiles.

Stiles nodded to Scott. “Go ahead. The next room is going to have something we need, too. So just keep going.” He glanced at Peter, but didn’t know what to say to him, so he turned his attention to Erica. “There’s bread and meat. You should eat something.” 

Scott paused before he went through, tossing Erica some of the bread and meat that he was carrying and giving her a small smile before he disappeared through the doorway.

Erica sighed, not even caring about the state of the meat before she stuck it between her teeth and ripped into it. She gave Stiles a small, slightly bloody grin. “Thanks, boss.”

Stiles laughed. “There was beef jerky and roasted chicken, but okay. I won’t judge, I would’ve done the same thing. Probably.” 

Erica snorted. “I wouldn’t care even if you did judge.” She teased him. “Come on, handsome. Let’s keep moving.”

Scott was inside the room already, smiling at Danny as he helped the other boy up. “Are you feeling alright? Dizzy? We’ve got food and stuff.”

“My head hurts a little, but I think I’m okay.” Danny murmured. 

Kira grabbed the first aid kit and took out a packet of ibuprofen. “The only water we have left is a half-bottle that Liam’s been drinking out of, so you’re probably going to have to dry swallow those.” 

Liam glanced down at his water bottle, and then grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. Unless you don’t mind backwash.”

“Ew.” Cora said dryly, staring at him with a frown.

Liam shrugged a shoulder.

Scott huffed, shaking his head, and reached for the ibuprofen, taking it from Kira and giving her a small smile before he passed it to Danny.

“Thanks.” Danny murmured. “What’s going on?” 

“In ten words or less...” Stiles muttered. “Ticking bomb, we need to run.” 

“Got it.” Danny nodded. 

“Carry something and move.” Stiles added. “There’s going to be something useful in the next room, there has been so far.” He opened the door, then slammed it shut, cutting off an animalistic roar. “Fuck! There’s a tiger. Well, now I know what the meat was for.” 

Kira grabbed the steaks and chicken and yanked the door open. She threw one of the steaks into the center of the room, watching the tiger pounce on it and start eating before she walked through the doorway. “Come on, get this other door unlocked.” 

Peter looked vaguely annoyed, staring at the tiger. “I would have liked to put down a tiger with my bare hands.” He muttered, walking toward the next door.

Stiles laughed. “You still could, you overgrown child.” He unlocked the door, grinning at Peter. 

Peter glanced back at Stiles, his lips twitching. “Maybe now I’d like to try taking on a dragon.” He teased.

“Maybe when we get out of here, you can.” Stiles smirked and opened the door. In the room ahead, Finstock was tied to a chair inside, a gag shoved in his mouth. “What the fuck? Are you even something?” He demanded, removing the gag. 

“Yeah, I’m pissed off.” Finstock snapped. “Get me out of here.” 

“I’m going to hear that at least a dozen more times today.” Stiles muttered. “Like it’s my fault?” 

Erica flashed her claws and quickly shredded through the ropes keeping Finstock tied to the chair. She lifted the hand and raised an index finger, wiggling her claw at Stiles. “For the record, I know it’s not your fault. It’s Beacon Hills. Stupid town is going to get us killed.” She snorted and made for the next doorway.

“I’m not actually sure we’re there, right now.” Stiles murmured. “Kira’s here, and she was in New York. Right?” 

Kira nodded. “Yeah.” 

“And Danny was in Boston. So I’m guessing we’re somewhere in the middle.” Stiles continued. He opened the door and his eyes widened as a swarm of bees flew toward him. “Holy shit!” 

“Shift!” Peter told Stiles firmly. “Beta form! They’re just bees, we can handle the stingers.” He pushed forward, ignoring the bees that landed on his skin and gritting his teeth.

“We can, but Liam, Danny and Finstock can’t.” Stiles pointed out. He shook his head, then untied the blanket’s makeshift handles. “Grab the weights and the knives, we’re not leaving them here.” He glanced up at the betas, then stood, holding the blanket. “Trust me.” He told the coach, flinging the blanket over his head and grabbing his hand. He shifted to his beta form, pulling the older man along with him, through the room. 

Scott hurried after them, almost forming a line as he tugged Erica’s hand to pull her with him. The others followed after quickly, gaining momentum now that they’d made it past a tiger and a swarm of bees. 

Malia looked annoyed when the door opened, and she watched everyone walk into the room. “Where’s Allison?” She demanded. “I woke up in here and I had to pee.” She muttered, gesturing to the corner of the room. “I want to leave now.” 

Stiles wrinkled his nose, then grimaced. “Damn it, now I have to pee.” 

“So do I.” Cora added, glancing around. She looked up at the cameras. “Yeah, that’s not happening right now. I’ll hold it.”

Peter followed Cora’s gaze to the camera, and he looked suddenly furious that a creepy old man had been watching his daughter without giving her any kind of privacy. He moved toward Malia, placing a hand on her upper back. “Allison’s grandfather’s kidnapped everyone, including Allison, and he’s placed us in a damn maze. We haven’t found her yet. We need to go.”

“We don’t know that he kidnapped Allison.” Kira protested, faltering when Stiles glared at her. “Well, we don’t. Didn’t you guys say that she went rogue on you once before?” 

Stiles grabbed Kira’s arm and pulled her through the next two rooms, only letting go of her to tend to Mason, who had bruises on his arms. Once he was sure that Mason was all right, he scowled up at Kira, then got to his feet. “You’re going first until I say otherwise. You’re not part of my pack and I don’t owe you a damned thing.” 

“So you’re just going to let me die?” Kira demanded. “If there’s more fire or bombs or anything, that’s it?” 

Stiles ignored her, unlocking the next door. Two backpacks were on the floor in the center of the room, and despite his insistence to the contrary, he walked in and unzipped both bags, confirming that they were empty. “Okay, bring all the stuff in here, we need to reorganize some shit.” He called out. 

The rest of the pack that was present filtered into the room.

Scott dropped everything he was carrying and knelt down, peering at the bags with relief. “Oh, this is going to be easier.” He blurted. “This, I’m used to.”

Stiles laughed. “I’ll carry one, you carry the other?” He put the first aid kit and the blanket into his backpack, then studied the other items as he dug the two keys out of his pocket and held them up for a beta to take. “Somebody go get the next door open.” 

Malia wiped her hands on her jeans, then lifted her shirt to wipe her mouth, after devouring the roasted chickens that Kira had given her. “Why are people carrying tables, anyway?” She took the keys from Stiles, but waited for his answer to her question.

“Because there was a room with knives being launched out of the walls, and I threw the table to see what would happen.” Stiles explained. “We’ve mostly ignored that tactic since, but that was stupidity on my part. My head’s been pounding since I woke up and I’m just trying to get us through this.” He added half of the beef jerky to the backpack in front of him, then separated the fifteen pound weights, putting one in his backpack and handing the other weight and the rest of the jerky to Scott. 

Kira grabbed the knives, handing one to Liam and the other to Mason. “I’m sorry.” She muttered. “I’m kind of prone to believing that everyone just might be out to get me, when I end up in situations like this.” 

Stiles shrugged. “Allison wouldn't do that to you, and neither would I. Not unless you really, really pissed me off.” 

Malia unlocked the door and opened it. “There’s a cop.” She called out, over her shoulder.

Erica looked alarmed, her head jerking toward Stiles. “Your dad?” She asked worriedly, and darted over to Malia, peering over the other girl’s shoulder. “Not your dad.” She added. “It’s Parrish.”

“That definitely breaks the pattern.” Stiles muttered. “But at least that means that we’re getting closer to the end of this fucking thing. I don’t know that many people.” 

“Quick explanation?” Parrish asked, as Stiles made his way into the room, the backpack on his shoulders and one of the tables in his hands. 

“We’re all trapped, there’s a bomb that had ninety minutes about forty minutes ago, and I don’t feel like dying today.” Stiles looked at Parrish. “Clear enough for you?” 

“Yeah, that works.” Parrish nodded. He reached out and took the table from Stiles. “What’s this for?” 

“Triggering death traps.” Stiles muttered. 

“And protection in case of flying sharp objects.” Erica added. She patted Stiles’ arms. “He’s our protection against fire.”

Stiles smiled gently and frowned when Malia went into the other room without waiting for anyone to check on it, first. He ran after her. “Don’t do that again.” 

“It’s just some glass jars.” Malia shrugged. 

“And if it wasn’t?” Peter asked her, frowning at her. “What would you have done then? He’s your alpha now - when he says not to do it again, don’t bloody do it.”

“Don’t let Hayden hear you using British phrases, she’ll lose her shit.” Stiles teased Peter. “Malia, you’re carrying those jars. Give me the keys back.” He crossed into the next room, after the one she had gone into, and found two weights with ‘30’ written on the sides. “Who has their hands free?” 

Cora waved both hands in the air. “I’ve got nothing.” She told him, moving forward. 

“Can you carry sixty pounds without trouble?” Stiles frowned at the way he had phrased his question. “I mean, because they’re bulky, not that I think you’re weak.” 

“I mean, I sort of have to, right?” Cora shrugged. “If I have an issue, believe me, I’ll make it known.”

“Okay.” Stiles got the next door open and sprinted up the stairs. The first room was empty, and he knew he shouldn’t, but he stood there and caught his breath, letting himself take a moment to think about how horrified he actually was. 

Scott moved toward Stiles, intent on comforting his friend, but was immediately cut off by Peter beating him there.

Peter grabbed Stiles’ shoulder gently and shook it lightly. “Later. The time for that will be later. We need to keep going, Stiles.” He said quietly. 

“I know.” Stiles murmured. He opened the next door, blinking in confusion at the sight of a ceiling so low, he had to crouch to see into the room. Broken glass lined the floor. He ran a hand over his face and slid his backpack off of his shoulders. “Okay, I’m going first.” 

“Stiles, you can’t go first every time.” Peter muttered, shaking his head. “I know why you should, and I know why you do, but we’re… pack, right? The alpha does not shoulder the brunt of protection on their own - they share it with the pack. We take care of each other, dammit.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “But push the backpack in front of you, to get the glass out of your way. At least, as much as you can. I didn’t see a door straight ahead, so it’s off to one of the sides.” He licked his lips, feeling nervous that he was in front of so many pack members and his teacher. “We’re getting out of here and then I’m asking you.” He muttered, referring to their conversation, before they were taken. 

Peter nodded firmly. “I look forward to it.” He murmured, then lowered himself to the ground, grabbing the backpack and pushing it in front of him. Carefully, but quickly, he made his way across the room, pushing the glass out of the way and leaving a large enough path for the others to cross. A few shards caught him several times, but he ignored the way his skin was cut and kept moving. When he reached the door, he straightened up enough that he could push it wide open. 

Stiles decided to let everyone else go ahead of him, taking the last position this time. He gave Peter a concerned look. “The first aid kit has bandaids.” 

“I’ll be alright.” Peter said quietly, turning his hands over and watching them heal with a contemplative expression on his face. He looked up at Stiles and smirked. “Besides, you know I’ve healed from worse.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Stiles smiled back and got the kit out of the backpack, anyway. He didn’t need to take care of the torn skin where his scale had been; the fire had somehow repaired that. He handed the bandaids to human betas and looked over at Peter again. “It just figures that fire sustains me. I didn’t expect that. I should have. Ironic, right?”

“Well, dragons are beings of fire. In mythology, dragon broodmothers breath fire on their eggs in order to prepare them for hatching.” Peter pointed out to him.

“I was talking about the fact that fire is kind of your weakness, and it’s my strength.” Stiles pointed out. “I am so, so glad to see you.”

“... I was trying to ignore that.” Peter admitted. 

“Sorry.” Stiles murmured. He got the small door open and crawled into the next room, standing up and smiling widely. “Allison!” 

Allison looked up from where she had been scowling at the wall, her eyes widening when she saw the rest of the pack. “Stiles! _Mal!_!” She jumped up and ran toward them throwing one arm around Stiles, and the other around Malia. She hugged them both tightly in relief. 

Malia wrapped her arms around Allison’s waist, nuzzling her shoulder. “We need to keep moving, because there’s a bomb. But I’m glad you’re here with us, now.” 

Allison beamed at her, pressing her forehead against her girlfriend’s. “So am I. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Stiles patted Allison’s shoulder, then walked away to unlock the next door. “Clear!” He called out, going into the room to pick up the twenty-five pound weight. He called out to Cora and Scott. “Cora, take this one and give the other weights to Scott, for the backpack.” 

Cora nodded, handing off the weights she was carrying to Scott before taking the weight Stiles held. She stared at it for a moment as she walked, and then looked at Allison. “I’m imagining hitting your grandfather in the face with this. Repeatedly.”

Allison smiled crookedly, keeping Malia close to her. “You and me - and all of us.”

Stiles smirked as he turned toward Kira. “Does that ease your mind at all?” He snapped, unlocking the next door. His smile faded and he ran into the room, gripping the wrist of the woman inside. “Greta!” He checked for a pulse, pressing the fingers of his other hand against her neck. Her eyes were wide open and he had to admit to himself that she wasn’t going to answer him. He shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders. “Someone take this.” He muttered. 

Cora moved forward and grabbed the backpack, staring quietly over his shoulder. 

Allison’s hand flew up over her mouth. “No,” she blurted. 

Scott looked utterly thrown, exhaling shakily. “Oh, no.” He said softly, moving to Stiles’ side and kneeling down next to him.

“I’m not leaving this room without her.” Stiles said firmly. He reached up slowly, his hand shaking as he closed her eyes. He moved slightly, getting the keys out of his pocket and holding them up to whoever wanted to take them. “I’ll carry her the whole way, if I have to.” 

“I’ll help you.” Scott said softly. “We all will.”

Erica reached out to take the keys, leaning over Stiles and hugging him briefly. “I’m so sorry.” She said in a small voice before pulling away. 

“Thank you.” Stiles murmured. He picked Greta up carefully, sniffling. “If he thought I wasn’t serious before, he’ll know better now. I’m not just going to kill Gerard, I’m going to do it slowly. And I’m going to enjoy it.” He glanced at Scott. “And I’m not sorry.” 

“Who is she?” Kira asked quietly. 

“Family.” Stiles muttered. “Not biologically, but that doesn’t make her any less important to me. When I was little... after my mom died, I was a complete pain in the ass to everybody. I know I was.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “And cooking was something I did with my mom, and Greta knew that. So she kept me busy in the kitchen, when I went to the diner with my dad. I got to crack eggs and stir batter, and whatever else a kid could do. It felt like home.” He closed his eyes, struggling to keep his emotions under control. “We really need to keep moving.” 

Peter placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed gently but firmly. “Let’s go.”

Following another empty room, they found Theo. Stiles was a little startled, though he guessed he shouldn’t have been, by the beta’s immediate questions, regarding the diner owner. “I didn’t think she was important to you.” Stiles admitted. 

“Well...” Theo shrugged. “I remember her being important, at least.” He looked around at what everyone else was carrying. “Let me help?” 

Scott nodded fervently. “Yes, please. Super strength or not, this backpack is getting really heavy.” He turned a little so that Theo could reach the bag. 

Theo opened the backpack, eyeing the contents before he pulled out one of the thirty-pound weights inside. He zipped it shut again. “What’s all of this for, anyway?” 

“We don’t know.” Kira shook her head. “But there was a bunch of meat on a table before, and a hungry tiger in a room later, so it makes sense to keep the weights. We’re going to need them. Or we won’t, and Allison’s grandfather is just messing with us.” 

While Scott, Kira and Theo were talking, Stiles nodded to Erica, to get the next door open. 

Erica nodded and hurried to the door, unlocking it quickly and yanking it open. She was so ready to be done with the maze. She just wanted Boyd, and fresh air, and blood on her hands from a freshly-killed troublesome geriatric.

An empty room, a room with low-volume audio of whispering voices, and then they were face to face with Chris Argent. Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but Gerard’s voice over the speakers interrupted him. 

“Congratulations, you’ve made it through half of the maze. You have forty-three minutes left to get through the rest of it. I would tell you to hurry, but I’m hoping that you won’t.” Gerard laughed. 

“Miserable motherfucking bastard.” Stiles muttered. “Fuck it. Erica, get the door open, please? And from now on, don’t wait, just keep unlocking doors.” He looked around the room. “Finstock.” He called out. “You’re the Econ teacher, that’s as good as math, keep track of what room we’re in. This is fifty and we’ve got another fifty to go. Keep us updated.” 

“Will do.” Finstock nodded. 

“Same, boss.” Erica nodded as well, taking Stiles’ words as tacit permission to kick open the door they had just reached. 

Stiles followed her through the empty room beyond Chris’ holding cell, waiting patiently as Erica unlocked the next door and stepped inside.

Scott hurried after her, furrowing his brows, then cursed, grabbing Erica around the waist and dragging her back. “Shit!” He blurted. “Maybe next time, don’t do that!”

Erica’s eyes were wide, and she was coughing roughly. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bastard?!” She screamed at the cameras. 

“What is it?” Stiles demanded. He peered into the room, instead of waiting for an answer. Poison ivy covered the walls and the floor, and among the green leaves, purple flowers blossomed. “Wolfsbane.” He called over his shoulder. “Erica, give the keys to Liam. Liam, when you get the door unlocked, wait for Chris to open it.” He glanced at Allison’s father. “Is that okay with you?” 

“It’s fine.” Chris replied, nodding. There was a hard look on his face, his eyes drifting to the older woman that Stiles was carrying. He recognized her easily, and there was a lump in his throat, a sick feeling in his gut, at the thought of what his father must have done to the woman. “As a matter of fact, if anyone is wearing any extra layers, give them to me.”

Stiles knelt down, lowering Greta’s corpse to the floor before he shrugged out of the hoodie he had on. He eyed the plants in the next room again, considered setting them on fire, then realized that it would only result in the werewolves having to breathe in the wolfsbane smoke. He handed his jacket off to Chris, then picked Greta up again and stood up. 

Liam took off the button-up plaid he was wearing and handed it over to Chris. 

Chris accepted both, and then nodded to Allison, handing Liam’s shirt to her. “Come help me. Hold the shirt over your hands and clear a path from the ivy and the wolfsbane.”

Allison nodded and stepped into the room, making quick work of the plants. She glared at the camera once in awhile, but kept her focus on steadily getting a path cleared for the pack. 

When the door was unlocked, three of the walls retracted, leaving the one with the doorway into the room full of poisonous plants. Stiles was one of the last to go through, carefully gathering a handful of poison ivy by only touching the stems before circling around to his right. When he got through the doorway, he followed everyone down the ‘hallway’ to the next room, where Satomi was sitting patiently and didn’t look the least bit bothered by being held captive. He put the plant leaves into a side pocket of Scott’s backpack, looking up at the camera with a blank expression. 

Satomi eyed Greta, then bowed her head and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t say a word to anyone, just followed them into the next room. 

“There’s no door.” Kira blurted. They were all standing around the edge of a pool, and she had taken the time to feel along each wall for some kind of mechanism that would open a door, since there were no obvious keyholes or doorknobs. 

“I have a feeling I know where it is.” Mason pointed at the pool. “Down there, somewhere. Gerard said there are a hundred rooms, and we haven’t even hit the sixtieth one, yet.” 

Stiles turned toward Cora. “This would be a great time for you to go ahead and pee.” He snorted. 

“Yeah, let me not do that.” Cora smirked at him. “Alright, who can hold their breath long enough to get down there and open the fucking door?” She asked, glancing at the others with a raised eyebrow. 

“I think Peter can do it.” Stiles glanced at the older man. 

Peter glanced at Stiles, then sighed. “Yes, I can.” He agreed. “Alright. Hold my shirt.” He carefully unbuttoned it and passed it to Stiles before diving into the pool.

Cora looked at Stiles, raising an eyebrow. “Was that a ploy to get my uncle to take his top off?”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “It was just logical. He’s got a problem with fire and this is the opposite of that. It made sense in my head.” He glanced at Greta, imagining that he could hear her laughing at him. 

“And you got to see him shirtless as a bonus.” Erica added. She glanced at Greta, too. 

“I actually wasn’t paying that much attention.” Stiles’ lips twitched. “Was it a good view?” 

Erica grinned slowly. “For an old guy.”

Cora squinted at her. “He’s not old. He was only eighteen when I was born.”

“And you’re my age, right?” Stiles tilted his head, trying to figure out exactly how old Peter was. 

“For fuck’s sake, Stilinski.” Finstock snapped. “He’s thirty-five.” 

“Thank you.” Stiles shrugged. 

“I should fail you on principle alone.” Finstock muttered. 

“I’m not even in your class.” Stiles snorted. 

“Retroactively, then. Big ol’ F.” The teacher shook his head. 

Stiles would have said something more, but the water line receded quickly, and he heard a woman’s voice yelling in surprise. He eyed the water, then everyone around him, giving Greta an apologetic look even though he knew she couldn’t actually see it. He tightened his grip on her and jumped into the water, letting the rush of water carry him to the bottom of the pool floor. 

Peter had landed on both feet inside the room below, and was now staring at a woman, frowning deeply at her. His nostrils flared, and he moved a few steps to the left, glancing up at Stiles. “About time you joined me. Who’s she?”

“Yates.” Stiles spoke at the same time as his teacher, who blurted out, “ _Mom_?!” 

“Mom?” Stiles repeated, then his mouth dropped open and he looked over at his culinary teacher. “This makes a lot more sense.” He murmured as Yates moved closer to him. “We, uh, we found her, and she was already...” 

“She’s old. Was.” Yates took her mother’s body from Stiles. “I’ve got her. Thank you for bringing her with you.” 

“Mrs. Yates-” Stiles began, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Marion.” Yates corrected. “Not at school, but while we’re getting ourselves the fuck out of here, you can use my first name.” She looked at Peter. “Go get that other door open.” 

“Please.” Stiles added automatically, but his teacher scowled, her eyes going yellow. 

“Fuck please. Please can wait until we’re the hell out of here.” 

“You just thanked me for something, though?” Stiles felt awkward as he said it. It definitely wasn’t the time to argue, but he didn’t like the idea of Peter being ordered around when he hadn’t done anything to earn it. 

“Please.” Marion practically snarled the word. “I am not in your pack.” She told Stiles, moving toward the doorway. 

“If you were, I’d leave you here right now and let you find your own way out.” Stiles snapped. “We’re not here to fight. Not you, at least. I get it, your mom died and that’s shitty, and you’re allowed to be angry. But save that for the person who put us here.” 

A low growl escaped Peter’s chest, his own eyes changing as he narrowed them at Yates. He shoved his way between her and the door, snarling, and then mockingly opened it for her. “After you.”

Yates walked into the next room, ignoring Peter. 

“What the hell was that?” Allison asked, dropping into the room with a splash and a wide-eyed expression on her face. 

“That was Greta’s daughter, who probably hates me right now for correcting her manners.” Stiles muttered. He put his hands on Peter’s shoulders, then remembered (a few seconds too late) that Peter was shirtless. He tugged the beta’s shirt off of his shoulder, where he had put it to keep it dry, and held it out to him. “Thank you.” He murmured, following Marion through the doorway. Any frustration he felt about the argument he had just gotten into was forgotten, and he rushed at his dad and hugged him. “Oh god, you’re okay! Good.” 

John hugged Stiles back tightly, burying his face in his son’s hair. “I’m glad you’re okay, too. What about your friends? Are they here? Are…” He trailed off, looking over Stiles’ shoulder at Peter and Marion. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the others hurried through the door, and then looked back at his son. “Alright. What are we dealing with, and how much time have we got?”

“How did you...” Stiles shook his head. “Less than forty minutes. There’s a bomb about two floors down and each of these floors is about twenty rooms, there’s a hundred rooms total, and this is...” He looked at Finstock. 

“Room fifty-six.” Finstock nodded. “Let’s go, huh?” 

Noshiko and Clark were in the next two rooms, which made Stiles feel hopeful. The more people they came across, the more likely it was that Gerard had run out of things to torment them with. And then he got to room fifty-nine. 

There was no floor, and the door to the stairwell was at least sixty feet away. 

There was only one solution, and Stiles turned toward Kira. “Hand me that table.”

Kira complied, rubbing her tired arms. 

Stiles threw the table through the doorway, listening for it to hit the bottom. After five seconds, he was starting to worry. After ten, he felt sick to his stomach. He moved away from the doorway and started getting undressed. “I’ll have to go through the doorway, then shift. I can’t make it through, otherwise. Somebody’s going to have to hold onto me while I do that, and then I can start taking you guys across.” He looked at Scott. “Remember that plan I had, to hold you while you unlocked the door? We’re probably going to have to do that.” He shook his head. “But not you and me. Me and Allison.” 

Scott nodded firmly. “No, I get it.” He murmured. “Okay. Just… dude, be safe?” He peered through the doorway and very carefully did not look down. 

Allison took a deep breath, looking over at Malia. She pressed a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek, and then moved toward Stiles in determination. “Let’s do this.”

“Don’t let me fall.” Stiles blurted, gripping the doorknob and holding onto it as tightly as he could, as he moved through the doorway. His toes were all that rested on the floor of the room where everyone else was. 

Allison swallowed hard, and threaded her fingers through his. “I won’t let you fall.” She promised. 

Stiles shifted to his alpha form, reluctantly letting go of Allison’s hands when he couldn’t hold them anymore. He dropped a few feet before he managed to fly back up, but he was shaken by it. He barely had enough room to turn around without falling again, since his wings spread out too far to either side of him. 

Allison shook her head, trembling. “I hate that sadistic bastard.” She muttered, and then carefully caught hold of Stiles’ wing, very aware that it would be a very long fall if she slipped. Reaching a hand back through the doorway, she gestured frantically. “Liam, come on, you first. As soon as Stiles gets you to the other side, get the door open and hop off. Then I’ll start sending people over in threes and fours, got it?”

Liam nodded firmly. “Got it!” He agreed, and then took her hand as she hauled him over and onto Stiles’ back. 

“Hold tightly, okay? Keep your hands on the spikes.” Allison murmured, and then ran her hand gently over Stiles’ side. “Go, Stiles.”

Stiles grimaced, as much as a dragon could, since he couldn’t shift back to tell Allison that he had intended for her to cross the gap with him. She was the only one capable of holding onto him and getting the door open; the others hadn’t practiced staying on his back for the past few months. He didn’t have a choice, he had to hurry and get across. He flew as carefully as he could, doing his best to correct how he was angled when he felt like Liam might fall. 

Clutching tightly to Stiles’ back, Liam breathed out in relief when the door came closer. He remembered watching Allison ride Stiles and figured that he could do what she did, in theory. He tightened his legs as much as he could around Stiles and then shakily stretched toward the door with the keys in one hand, struggling to get the key in the lock. Nerves and panic at the thought of failure nearly made him drop the keys, which nearly gave him a heart attack until he reaffirmed his grip and tried again. One pass, a swipe, and then a second pass before Liam finally succeeded in getting the key in the lock. He turned the door handle and shoved the door open, laughing in relief as he scrambled further up Stiles’ neck to get inside. His foot caught on one of Stiles’ spikes, and he tripped, catching himself halfway through the doorway, his legs dangling over the edge. “Oh, crap.”

Stiles nudged Liam, getting him through the doorway. He turned around carefully and flew back, turning around once more and bringing his tail up, through the doorway, to help the other people climb onto his back. He was angry and pretty sure he was rumbling, but he couldn’t say anything yet. 

Scott climbed through the doorway onto Stiles’ back, grabbing Danny’s arm to help him up, and then did the same for Satomi and Valerie. 

Stiles took the four across, then went back for Mason, Theo, Parrish, and Kira. After a few more trips, the only ones left were Allison and Malia.

Allison reached for Malia’s hand and helped her onto Stiles’ back before climbing on as well. 

Stiles waited until they were across before he moved toward the doorway. He couldn’t get through in this form, and there was nowhere to stand so that he could shift. He looked around, his wings flapping harder as he tried to stay up, but he didn’t see a way to get himself to safety. 

Allison looked panicked, and she looked around frantically before grabbing Peter’ arm. “Help me help him.” She blurted. 

Peter was at the door in an instant. “Stiles, dig your front claws into the floor of the doorway!”

Allison nodded slowly, and then faster. “Hang onto the doorway with your claws, shift! We won’t let you fall!”

Stiles rested his front legs in the doorway, just barely fitting there. He did what he could to lean forward as he shifted back to human form, his eyes wide. As soon as he was safe within the doorway, he turned and leaned out, gripping the door frame and emptying his stomach into the void below. 

Peter soothingly rubbed a hand over Stiles’ back, then moved his hand to Stiles’ hair, stroking it back gently. “I’ve got you.” He murmured. “I’ve got you, you’re alright. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“No, you wouldn't.” Stiles agreed. He stood up straight slowly, wiping his mouth and looking around to see who had his clothes. “Someone else can take over the lead on getting us out of here, because I fucking quit.” He shook his head, turning toward Allison. “I told _you_ to unlock the damned door. Not Liam.” 

Allison faltered. “I didn’t think.” She said. “I’m sorry, I just thought ‘get the keys across, Liam has them.’ She shut her eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was stupid.”

Peter pressed his hand to Stiles’ back. “We still have quite a few rooms to get through,” he murmured. “Table this for now, let her grovel for her stupidity later.”

Stiles nodded and held his hand out to Liam, to get the keys back. He went up the stairs and unlocked the door, blinking at the reflected light from a maze of mirrors. He hesitated near the entrance, then blew plumes of smoke, following them through the maze once he saw where they drifted, past the mirrors in front of him. 

Scott looked toward one of the mirrors nervously, grimacing. “This room would be Jackson’s dream come true.” He muttered, following after Stiles.

John walked past him, giving him a light smack upside the head. “Focus on getting through the maze instead of making comments about your packmate.” He chastised Scott.

“Someone give me some jerky, my stomach’s about to digest itself.” Erica demanded, stalking past the mirrors. “Why do we actually have to follow a path?” She asked Stiles curiously. “They’re mirrors. I mean, barring bad luck and superstition or whatever, can’t we just shove them all down?”

“Not if we want to get out of here.” Stiles muttered. “He’d find a way to shoot us with lasers or send flying ninja disk things at us, to kill us all. He probably already has that shit set up.” He turned to grab the beef jerky from Scott’s backpack, tossing it to Erica. “Go nuts.” His stomach rumbled as he spotted a few packs of Reese’s Cups, and he hesitated. “Hold on.” He muttered, not even talking to anyone in particular. “The meat was for the tiger, the bread was for us, the water was for us, the tables helped us figure out a few things in the rooms... this has no purpose, right?” 

Erica caught the beef jerky, but didn’t eat it, looking at Stiles, and then down at the candy. “Aren’t those your favorite?” She paused for a second, but then said immediately after, “What if he’s done something to them?”

“They look sealed.” Stiles turned the package over in his hands. He tore it open, peeling the brown wrapper away from one of the cups and biting into it. A few seconds later, a whistling noise and a soft thud came from behind him. He turned, dropping the other piece of candy when he saw Liam with an arrow through his chest, laying on the floor. “Oh my god.” He blurted. “Why?” 

Gerard’s mocking laughter greeted him. “You made a careless mistake and someone suffered for it. I don’t suppose that anyone else will criticize you for that, the way you yelled at my granddaughter. You have to learn consequences and know your place. I told you that before.” 

Allison went white, her hand covering her mouth in horror. Her eyes were locked on Liam, and she was shaking her head frantically.

Cora whipped her head around and looked dead at Scott. “Can’t you bite him? You’re a true alpha, make with the alpha-ing.”

Scott looked panicked, gazing at Stiles with wide eyes. 

“Do it.” Stiles nodded. “If you don’t, he’ll die anyway. At least this way, he’ll have a chance at staying alive.” 

Scott didn’t need to be told twice. He was at Liam’s side in seconds, lifting the boy’s arm and biting deeply before pulling away.

Peter frowned a little, listening intently with his head cocked to the side as Liam’s heartbeat slowed and nearly came to a stop before the sound of rushing blood filled his ears, and the heartbeat grew faster. He snapped a finger, looking around until he caught sight of Mason. “Help me get the arrow out of his chest. The bite took, and he’ll keep healing around it otherwise.”

Mason nodded, wide-eyed as he moved to help Peter. 

“Hold him still. This is going to hurt, whether he’s conscious or not.” Peter told him, then reached for the arrow, trying to determine how deeply the arrowhead was lodged inside of Liam’s body. He cursed when he realized that the only way he would be able to get it out would be to break the fletching off and push the arrow the rest of the way through. He looked up at Mason for a moment, and then sighed. “Keep him still.” He said again, then broke the shaft and pushed.

Liam’s back arched off of the ground as he screamed, even through unconsciousness.

Stiles was ready with gauze pads and tape, doing his best to bandage the wounds in LIam’s chest and back. “Scott, give me your backpack and take him.” 

Scott nodded, handing the backpack off to Stiles before he swung Liam gently up and into his arms.

Peter helped Stiles up, then reached a hand out to help Mason up as well. “Bastard killed some of our time.” He muttered, referring to Gerard. “We have to go faster.”

“I know.” Stiles exhaled smoke again. “Run!” He called out. “If you see someone in any of these rooms as we pass through, just grab their hand or pick them up if they’re dead or unconscious, and keep going.” 

Kira grabbed a lighter in room sixty-three. 

Valerie grabbed the five-pound weights in room sixty-four, grimacing at the liquid coating them. She made it into the next room, where Isaac was, before her body went numb and she collapsed. 

Cora grimaced, rushing toward her boyfriend and snagging his hand. Stiles had said it himself, to grab someone and go. Someone else would have to grab Hayden’s sister.

Stiles yanked his shirt off and wiped off the weights as carefully as he could. He wadded the shirt up, adding it to the poison ivy in the backpack before he picked the weights up. “Danny, drop the table and take these, please.” He picked Clark up, carrying her over one shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He told her. “You can punch me after this, if you really want to.” 

Parrish set his table aside and bent to pick up the fifty-pound weight in the next room, but his hands burst into flames and he yelled in surprise, smacking them against his uniform pants to put the fire out. “What the hell just happened?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Deal with being half-naked, like the rest of us, and wrap your shirt around the weight.” Stiles kept moving as he spoke. He picked up some small candles in the next room and tossed them to Erica, since she was the closest person to him, who wasn’t also carrying something or someone. 

Erica caught the candles and slipped them into her pocket, hurriedly running along as they continued to move. 

Four bottles of water were in the next room, and Stiles waved a hand toward them. “Everybody grab one and take a drink if you need it, as long as they’re fully-sealed. Otherwise, ignore them and keep going.” 

Only a few from the group broke off long enough to open the bottles (all ultimately sealed) and drink before turning to catch up with the rest. 

Stiles picked up a box of matches and threw them over his shoulder, yelling for someone to catch them as he ran through the maze, exhaling more smoke to give him a clearer idea of where to go next. Two weights, each weighing ten pounds, were in his hands as he kept going, and he verified that Lori and Hayden, in the next two rooms, were okay before he handed off one of the weights to each of them. Brett was in the room after that, and the room after _his_ was iced over, like one of the first had been. 

“I trust you know what to do here, Stiles.” Gerard spoke through the overhead speakers. 

Stiles waved a middle finger at the cameras. “There’s a key somewhere in here.” He didn’t want to waste too much time trying to find it, like he had when he got started. Instead, he breathed fire over the ice, hoping that humans and werewolves alike could break through the melted ice and get their hands on the key. He didn’t trust Gerard though, so he tried both of his keys in the lock. The first one didn’t work, but the second one did. “Fuck him.” He called out. “He just wanted us to waste time. Get up, keep going.” They had to run back the way they came, to get to Jackson. 

“Seventy-five.” Finstock commented as he passed Stiles. 

“Thanks, Coach!” Stiles wasn’t sure how much time they had, but he knew it was dwindling. Room seventy-six had a backpack, and gave it to Erica, instructing Lori and Hayden to put the weights into the backpack. He gave the blonde werewolf an apologetic look before he moved ahead to room seventy-seven. 

“Tracy?” Mason held a hand out to her. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” 

The brunette girl walked with Mason, stumbling a little. 

Stiles handed a shopping bag to Jackson. It was full of clothes for a woman, and Stiles hoped that they wouldn’t come across a naked female beta somewhere. Especially not in an iced-over room. Derek was in the room after that, but Stiles didn’t offer him more than a relieved nod and smile. He ran up the stairs to the next level. 

Marion Yates moved to stand beside Stiles, surveying the room in front of them. The floor panels looked unusual, and she glanced at Stiles. “Any idea what this is?” 

“No.” Stiles tried quickly to guess, once more, how much time was left. He shook his head, knowing that it wouldn’t help. He was too hesitant to enter the room. He could hear other people coming up behind him and he knew they were looking into the room, too. Nobody else had any ideas and he didn’t want to stand there too long, trying to understand. He looked around, his gaze going to Parrish. “Set your table down. I need it. Take Clark.” 

Parrish nodded, setting the table down and handing the weight he had been carrying off to someone else, careful to take the other deputy in his arms without hurting her. He looked back up at Stiles. “How long will she be like this?” 

“About twenty more minutes, regardless of her strength and metabolism.” Stiles murmured. “And if you have a condition like epilepsy or asthma before getting the bite, it activates them. It looks like she doesn’t, though.” He picked up the table and threw it into the room, counting when the table hit the floor. At fifteen seconds, flames came out of one wall and knives came out of the other. “Okay.” He muttered. “So it’s another death trap room. I don’t know how to get us through this one. I mean, we could do what we did before, but I’m not interested in getting stabbed repeatedly.” He sat down, cross-legged, and stared off into space. 

“He’s giving up.” Danny remarked, frowning at Stiles. He waved a hand in front of the alpha’s face, then shook his head and looked up at Scott. “What should we do?” 

Scott looked back at Danny helplessly. “Stiles is the one with the ideas.” He admitted softly. “Mine always suck. But… maybe, um…” A desperate look crossed his face, and he visibly began to panic as he looked around the room, and at the others, searching for an answer. “I don’t… I don’t know.” He admitted softly. “I don’t know how to get us out of here.” He swallowed hard. 

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Kira nodded to Scott. “Just try.”

Scott stared at her. “You know what my ‘big idea’ is right now? It’s ‘run like hell.’ That’s my idea, that’s all I can think of doing. How does that save anyone? How does that get us all out of here alive? There’s a _reason_ Stiles is the idea guy and not me! So, like… thanks for having faith in me or whatever, but I don’t even have faith in myself right now.”

Hayden frowned at Kira. She put her arm around Scott. “Can we set off all of the plates in the floor and then run through after that?”

Scott clutched at her hand, looking up at his girlfriend. “That… could work. But how? What would we use?”

Peter seemed to come to a conclusion quickly and straightened, glancing at his nephew, and then at his niece, daughter and Allison. After a second, he knelt down and cupped his hands under Stiles’ armpits, hauling the younger man up. He leaned in close and murmured, “The weights we’ve been carrying, yes?”

Stiles looked startled. “What?” He glanced at over his shoulder Peter. “What happened?” 

Peter tugged Stiles around so they were facing each other. “Hayden mentioned setting off all of the plates on the floor. Scott asked how.” His eyes glinted as he looked at Stiles. “The weights, Stiles. We can use the weights.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “That should work.” He looked around. “But we’re going to need all of them to be placed on a tile at the same time, so a few people should grab two and get started. I... I can grab something.” He took a deep breath. 

Peter placed his hand on Stiles’ cheek. “ _Neartú féin_ , Stiles. Strengthen yourself. We can do this.” He said quietly, and carefully pressed a firm kiss to Stiles’ forehead. 

Stiles smiled at Peter, then got weights out of his backpack and started counting the weight of all of them, in total. “Two hundred pounds.” He muttered. “Okay, and there are eleven of these... does anyone know exactly what they weigh, down to the ounce?” He looked up at Jackson. 

“Why are you looking at him?” Theo laughed. “Let’s just get this done.” He grabbed the two thirty-pound weights. 

“I’m worried about how we’re going to stand, to get all of the weight onto one plate without triggering another one.” Stiles explained. “If I stood on one plate, holding a certain amount of weight in my hands, it might be enough to deactivate the plate. And if that works, then we don’t need to all work together on every single section of the floor.” 

Jackson straightened, looking at Stiles. “Tell me where you want me.” He said firmly. “I’m helping.”

“This one.” Stiles gestured to the heaviest weight, which was fifty pounds. “Kira, you grab two of the five-pound weights. Scott, take the twenty-five pound one and the other five pound.” 

Jackson grabbed the fifty pound weight, while Scott barreled around him and grabbed the twenty-five and five pound weights. 

Kira dutifully picked up the weights that Stiles had told her to grab. “Now what?” 

“Wait a fucking second.” Stiles frowned at her. “Obviously, other people need to grab some, too.” He looked around at the other people, gauging who had already been run ragged and who still had enough energy to take on the task ahead. “Isaac and Brett.” He waved them over, handing each one a fifteen pound weight and a ten pound weight. “You don’t have to do it immediately, but you’ve got fourteen seconds to get all of the weights onto a tile.” He explained, grimacing. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after that, but it should disable the mechanism. Just go two or three at a time, get the weights down, and move back from the doorway. If we’re wrong...” 

“Let’s not think about being wrong,” Peter murmured. “Let’s just… hope to hell we’re right.”

“Okay.” Stiles stood up, pulling his backpack straps back over his shoulders. He eyed the doorway again, biting his lip and thinking of chess pieces and placement on a board. “Scott and Kira, stand on either side of the doorway, but like, halfway in front of it?” He shook his head, not sure he was explaining himself properly, and just moved them where he wanted them to go. “Sorry.” He muttered, embarrassed. “And then the rest of you should just get in line in the center, like this... so that as soon as they place theirs, they can move off to the sides again and not be in the way. Whoever’s third, you just go forward and the fourth person can circle around to one side of you, fifth to the other, and you step back while the last person gets ready.” 

There was a scramble as various pack members ran into position, worried that any misstep would cost them. 

Scott shifted patiently and nervously, breathing out shakily as he waited to see what would happen. 

“Go.” Stiles murmured, looking around for Peter, even though he had just spoken to the older man. He knew he wouldn’t have made it through most of the rooms if it hadn’t been for Peter’s help. Seconds later, the tile on the floor lit up and he sighed in relief. “Keep going! You can stand on that one now, just keep putting weights on the tiles until they’re all lit up. If you get tired, call for someone else to take over for you.” 

Peter moved to stand near Stiles, watching as the others began to carefully move themselves and the weights around the tiles. He glanced at Stiles, and then cleared his throat, drawing his brows together. “I… don’t think I like it when you space out.” He admitted. “And I don’t believe the others do, either. Especially Scott.” He stared out at the room, folding his hands in front of him. “You’re quite an integral part of this pack. And not just because you’re the alpha.”

“Next time we’re stuck in a maze of death, I’ll remember that.” Stiles snorted. He shrugged a moment later. “I know. I wasn’t helping anybody. I’m sorry.” 

Peter looked at him again. “Don’t apologize.” He murmured. “You may be a shifter, but you’re still human. You still have every right to hesitate, panic, freeze, or whatever other phrases people attach to spacing out. It was just… a bit startling to see, with Scott. The others looked at him for answers, and he couldn’t think of anything. You spaced out, so he did, too.” He frowned. “The kitsune didn’t help matters.”

“She never does.” Stiles said quietly, not wanting Kira or Noshiko to hear him. “I don’t know why I agreed to spend four years babysitting her in New York.” 

“Because it got you into an amazing school that you really wanted to get into.” Peter replied, his voice just as low. “Just remember, you’ll have Scott there. And Allison, I believe.” He rolled his eyes. “And if my daughter has her way, Malia and myself as well.”

“But you would rather stay in Beacon Hills?” Stiles watched Peter’s expression. 

Peter hesitated, and then answered carefully. “Beacon Hills… whatever else it may be… is home. New York is unknown to me.” He looked at Stiles steadily. “But if it’s what Malia wants… then I’ll do it.” An unasked question was in his eyes as he watched the younger man: _‘Is it something you would want, too?’_

Stiles suddenly felt more exhausted than he thought was possible. Every time he thought that he and Peter were getting closer, Peter said or did something that made Stiles wonder if he had just imagined any interest. He had heard Peter say, over the phone, that he needed time to think. But that had been months earlier and needing time to think didn’t exactly equal a possible relationship. “I want everyone in my pack to be happy.” He said finally. “And alive.” 

Peter hummed quietly, his eyes on Stiles’ face as he nodded. “Yes, of course.” He murmured. “I don’t suppose you’ve begun looking for places to live yet.” 

“I don’t have to.” Stiles shook his head. “There’s a two-bedroom apartment, about two thousand a month, and I told Ken that I don’t want him paying the full rental price every month, once Kira and I move in there. He’s paying a thousand, and then Kira and I will each pay five hundred. I said she needs to get a job. Shit, how long have we been in here? I’m probably fired.” 

Peter snorted and placed his hand on Stiles’ back, guiding him across the lit-up tiles quickly. “Come on. Probably wasn’t a smart idea for us to begin talking about this during a life-and-death situation. We’ll come back to it after we’re all settled and Gerard is bleeding out.”

“I definitely like that plan.” Stiles agreed. As soon as the rest of the tiles were glowing, the door swung open and he walked through to the next room, hugging Corey and guiding him through, to the room after that. It was empty, but the door on the other side triggered the walls to retract for most of the rooms, and they had to turn around to get into the room past the tiled one. He picked up the case of syringes in there and put them into Erica’s backpack. He didn’t want to risk them getting contaminated by the contents of his own. 

“We’ve got to be almost done, right?” Allison asked out loud, looking at Finstock. “There can’t be much further for us to go after this.” She didn’t care that she sounded like she was begging - being inside the maze was one of the worst experiences of her life, and she hated the man that called himself her grandfather for putting herself and her friends and family through this.

“Yeah, this is room eighty-five.” Finstock assured the brunette. “You’re tougher than this, aren’t ya? It’s gonna be fine.” 

Stiles smiled at Allison, shaking his head a little as he went into the next room. The one after that, and the following one, were both empty. “Eighty-eight.” He told himself as he picked up bottles of epinephrine. He held them out to Scott. “We’re twelve away from getting the fuck out of here.” 

Scott took the bottles and nodded. “So close.” He muttered, licking his lips. He did his best to quell the uneasy feeling in his stomach that Gerard wouldn’t let them go that easily. 

In room ninety, they found Boyd, and Stiles stayed out of the way to give Erica a chance to tackle her boyfriend. When he opened the next door, a wave of heat rolled toward him and he thought for a second that it was on fire - but it was just unbearably hot. “Everybody just stay here and wait for me to open the door, then come through.” He advised them, going into the room. The heat had him relaxing his shoulders, feeling more awake and alert than he had been before entering the room. He wanted to stay and indulge in it, but he knew better. As he unlocked the door, he felt certain that the ninety minutes had passed, or were at least very close to passing. 

Lydia wiped her eyes and got up, hugging Stiles. “Are you okay? Is Derek here? Where is everyone?” 

“I’m fine, yes, and they’re all here.” Stiles nodded. 

Lydia ran from the room to look for Derek as Stiles got the next door unlocked. 

Derek’s head whipped up the instant he caught Lydia’s scent and heartbeat, and he shoved his way past everyone else to catch her in his arms. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” He murmured softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” Lydia smiled, relieved. “I wasn’t sure what was going on. I felt like screaming a few times, but then it would pass.” 

Derek kept her held tightly to his chest as he began to move, nodding. “We’ll talk about it after.” He promised. “The room you were in by Finstock and Stiles’ count, was the ninety-second room. We’re almost out of here, we just have to keep moving.”

“That might be a little tough.” Stiles called out. “Everyone needs to come in here, we have decisions to make and we don’t have a lot of time.” 

“What’s going on?” Scott asked, making it through the doorway into the room Stiles was in, Hayden clutched to his side protectively. 

Derek followed, leading Lydia inside, as did the rest of the pack.

Peter hovered behind Stiles, his nostrils flaring sharply as he eyed the bottles in the room suspiciously. “Oh, hell.”

Stiles read from the typed note he had found on the table. “It says ‘If you want to proceed, ten of you have to each take a vial and drink the contents of it. It’s only wolfsbane, it can’t do that much damage.’ Fucking douchebag. But there are about thirty of us. And Liam can’t do it, since he’s unconscious, and Clark is out for at least another five minutes.” 

“I’ll do it.” Lydia grabbed a vial and downed the contents, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach from the last time she had ended up drinking such a concoction. 

Peter grabbed one as well, gritting his teeth before he tossed the contents down his throat.

Surprisingly, Chris grabbed one as well, swallowing the liquid with a grimace.

Malia watched her dad for a few seconds, then took a vial and drank the purple juice. She made a face. “Does anyone have any meat left over?” 

Hayden laughed softly. She looked at Stiles as she reached for one of the vials. “Is this going to hurt me? I don’t want to ruin the donor kidney.” 

“I think you’ll be all right.” Stiles murmured. “But if you’re not sure, then don’t do it.” 

“We might die anyway, right?” Hayden drank the punch. 

“Five more.” Stiles looked around. “I know this sucks, but if we just stand here, we’ll just keep standing here. And a few of us have had it before. It’ll make you hallucinate, but it won’t kill you. I won’t let it kill you. Okay?” 

Scott took a deep breath and reached for a vial, drinking it quickly before he could chicken out of it.

There was a brief pause, and then Jackson grabbed one as well, shaking his head unhappily before he drank it, refusing to be outdone by Scott.

Theo, Danny and Kira grabbed the last three vials, and Stiles sighed in relief when the door at the other end of the room opened. His joy - if it could even be called that - was short-lived when he saw that the next room was set up the same way, except that there were three vials of some kind of serum that made werewolves human for three days. He turned, intending to ask Cora, Satomi and Derek to do what Gerard wanted, this time around. He didn’t expect to see Theo reaching for a vial. “Stop! You just dosed yourself with wolfsbane punch.” 

“Yeah, so?” Theo shrugged. “I can handle it.” 

“What if you can’t?” Stiles protested, but Theo was already drinking the liquid in the container. “That werewolf side keeps you human.” He grimaced. “Without it...” 

“Without it, I don’t have to feel guilty about anything I’m going to do.” Theo smirked. “Come on, somebody else do it.” 

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and called out to Cora and Derek. “Please.” 

Derek glanced at his younger sister, and then nodded, moving forward to grab the last two vials. He handed one off to Cora, and then grimaced as he drank the other. 

Cora finished drinking hers at the same time that Derek did, and she groaned a little, leaning heavily against Isaac as it worked on her.

Isaac wrapped his arms around Cora. “You’re going to be okay.” He said softly. “I won’t let Gerard do anything to you.” 

The next room was empty, as usual, but more than half of the pack was moving slowly, due to the drugs coursing through their veins. Stiles didn’t have time to wait for everyone, so he rushed ahead, opening the door to find Scott’s mother, Melissa. He was glad to see her, but certain things were falling into place. The shifters were weakened, there were vials of medicine and syringes, and Stiles doubted that they were for his pack. Melissa being there might’ve been coincidental, given her connection to the pack. But Stiles felt certain that she was there to help with something, whether she wanted to or not. “Oh god.” 

“Mom!” Scott blurted, rushing toward her and pulling her into a hug. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” He asked worriedly.

Allison looked around warily, looking at Stiles for a moment before she reached for Malia’s hand and squeezed. “Something’s not right.” She said softly.

“What is it?” Jackson asked quietly. “What are you thinking?” He glanced at Stiles. “You, too. What do you know?”

“We have syringes, epinephrine, and a nurse.” Stiles gestured to Melissa. “And werewolves who can’t fucking fight back.” He paused. “And a lighter, matches... ritual candles.” He looked up at Allison. “And clothes for a woman.” 

Allison looked sick, shaking her head. “No. No, he couldn’t actually be thinking that he could… He couldn’t.”

Allison’s words caught in Chris’ mind, and he frowned deeply before he realized what his daughter and Stiles were thinking. He suddenly looked furious, resigned, and determined all at once. “He would. He was willing to become a werewolf to save his own ass. He would do anything to save her.”

Stiles’ hands shook as he opened the next door. It was empty, and he looked at Finstock for help. 

The coach grimaced, shaking his head as he pointed toward the door at the other end of the room. “That’ll take you right into ninety-nine, Stilinski.” 

“Open the door, Stiles.” Peter said quietly, his voice hard and his gaze narrowed directly ahead of them. He had caught on to what Chris, Stiles and Allison had been saying, too, and was now determined to get out of the building, regardless of what it took to do so.

Stiles got the door open, and shivered at the sudden cold air coming from inside the room. A coffin rested in the center, and as they had predicted, Kate Argent’s corpse was inside. 

“You’ve guessed correctly.” Gerard spoke. “And because you made it here with moments to spare, I’ve disabled the bomb.” He laughed. “Actually, that was never a bomb. Just a timer. But I’m glad you took it so seriously. Resurrect my daughter and I’ll open the doors to the elevator, just beyond this room you’re in.” 

“What makes you think we even can?” Jackson snapped. “What makes you think that anything you gave us to use could possible raise your psycho daughter’s cold, rotting body from the dead?”

“Jackson Whittemore.” Gerard laughed again. “It’s a good thing you’re so good at lacrosse, because you’ve never been very bright. I know that Stiles can do this for me, and with a banshee there to help him, it won’t go wrong.” There was an implied warning in his words. 

“Ignore him.” Lydia shook her head. She watched Stiles’ shaking hands, then cleared her throat and looked around the room. “Finstock, set that table down, right here.” She gestured to the space in front of her, still speaking as the teacher did what she told him. “Erica, get the supplies we’ll need out of your backpack. Kira, put the lighter down here, on the table. Scott, the epinephrine. Lori, get the tags off of those clothes, if there are any. Though I don’t know why we’re bothering with letting her change when she’s awake. We want to get out of here, don’t we? Kate Argent, alive and breathing, is our ticket into that elevator.” She glanced at Peter, hoping that any sort of connection between them would still be in effect. 

Peter’s harsh, angry gaze met Lydia’s, and then passed over her to his nephew’s pale face before he looked at her again. He was well aware of what he needed to do to get out, and even more aware of what he needed to do after they did. He gave her a barely visible nod as the others listened to her and laid out the items that would bring his family’s murderer back to life. 

Stiles started setting up the candles and lighting them, forcing himself to believe that he wanted Kate alive, even though he didn’t. The whole room had gone silent, and the unconscious members of their group were resting on the floor. It felt like it was all too soon and not soon enough, when the blonde in the coffin stirred. “Give her the epinephrine.” He told Melissa, sighing. “So she can out of there and we can finally leave here.” 

Melissa didn’t look happy as she tapped the syringe, and then pressed the needle against Kate’s skin before she pressed the plunger down. She stepped back quickly when she was done, moving to her son’s side and watching the blonde woman warily. 

Kate looked around, smirking at Derek when she saw him. She laughed as she got out of the coffin, changing her clothes with no concern about modesty. “I feel so much better, after all that rest.” 

The door opened, and Stiles grabbed his backpack and hurried to keep up with her as she approached the elevator. He braced himself, halfway in and halfway out, as he waited to make sure everyone could make it out of the building. 

“You’re very distrusting, aren’t you?” Kate grinned. 

“Yeah, well, you and your piece of shit father bring it out in everybody you’ve ever met.” Stiles muttered.

Derek hurried past, his hand wrapped around Lydia’s as he walked by Kate, his eyes never leaving the direction ahead of him. He’d never felt more relieved than when he’d known for certain that she was dead, but even dead she’d held power over him. Part of him would always fear her and hate her for the way she’d torn his life apart, all out of pure enjoyment, but he refused to let her affect him now - they were finally getting out of the maze, and he was taking Lydia home to safety. 

Allison, too, ignored Kate’s existence as she moved past, though her stomach twisted and she felt utterly sick at the lengths Gerard would go to in order to get his way.

When everyone else was crowded into the elevator, so tightly together that breathing almost seemed impossible, Stiles stepped the rest of the way inside, letting the doors close. The elevator started the ascent that would get them to freedom. Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Peter, mouthing ‘wait until the doors open.’ 

Peter didn’t look at Stiles, but again gave the barest hint of a nod in acknowledgement. 

When the doors opened, Stiles moved back into the same position he had been in, to make sure everyone boarded the elevator. He didn’t want to risk anyone being forced to go back down into the maze. He held his hand out, taking the knives that Mason had been carrying, as the younger teen passed him. From the moment he had heard Gerard’s voice in the darkness, in that first room, Stiles had known he was going to do this. He held the knives, point down, at his sides. A quick look around told him that they were in an office building, and it looked deceptively small, just one or two rooms. He left the elevator, feeling a breeze on the side of his face as he passed the open front door. He saw Kate Argent leaning against a doorway, her back to him, and his grip tightened on the knives in his hands. 

Peter had stepped out of the elevator, feigning boredom and disinterest, and it was only once the others had made it out of the building safely that he backtracked, turning slowly to stare blankly at Kate. “Getting rid of you just doesn’t seem to stick, does it?” He commented dryly.

Stiles glanced to his right, at Peter, and frowned down at the knives in his hands as Kate turned around. She cut her conversation with Gerard, who was seated inside the other room, short. Stiles wasn’t looking at the hunter, but he heard her laughing at him. 

“This one wanted to kill me all by himself, didn’t he?” Kate practically cooed, her gaze going to Peter. “Did you promise him that he could do it? Did you offer to bite him? Does he know you’re not an alpha?” 

Stiles’ lips quirked at the realization that Gerard’s daughter had no idea who she was making fun of. He looked up at her, his eyes wide as though he was terrified. “I just want you to stop hurting my friends.” 

“How about if you put those knives down and come over here, by me? Away from the big, bad wolf.” Kate suggested. 

Stiles nodded, dropping both knives and stepping past them, toward her. “He says a lot of things that don’t seem to make sense.” He remarked, not bothering to look back at Peter. 

Kate raised her arm, putting it around Stiles’ shoulders as she turned him to face Peter. “Just look at him. He’s never been the same since the fire.” 

“Maybe one day, you can tell me how it feels. You know, firsthand?” Stiles exhaled flames, stepping back and away from Kate as she brought her hands to her face in a wasted effort to ward off the fire that was burning her alive. “I didn’t want to bring you back, and I’ll be damned if I let you walk out of here.” He picked up the knives and held one out to Peter. 

Peter accepted the knife, a cold look on his face as he gazed at Kate. “Bittersweet.” He muttered. “It’s how you killed them. It’s how you tortured me, and now you get to suffer it yourself.” A slow, angry smile crossed his lips, and he tapped the knife thoughtfully against his bottom lip. “I really could watch this all day, it’s quite glorious.” He looked at Stiles. “You’re very good at presents.”

“I’ll have another one for you. Just give me a minute.” Stiles kicked Kate backward, through the doorway, and came face to face with Gerard.

He was seated at his desk, not sparing so much as a glance at his daughter, his pistol aimed at Stiles. 

Stiles threw his knife. It hit Gerard, startling him into dropping the gun. He didn’t waste time, flinging the kanima venom-soaked shirt at Gerard’s face. In the process, some of the liquid touched his skin, and he stumbled back from the doorway and Kate’s weeping, scorched form, sitting on the floor to await his inevitable paralysis. “Worth it.” He murmured, looking up at Peter. 

There was a look of ecstatic glee on Peter’s face now as he watched Gerard’s old limbs slowly succumb to the kanima venom, to the point where he was actually fighting to keep his fangs from dropping. He wasn’t hallucinating yet - he wasn’t sure when that would kick in, exactly - but he was beginning to have some control issues, considering he’d meant for his claws to extend. He walked toward the two Argents and knelt in front of them, an almost kind tone to his voice as he spoke. “It must be so difficult, being unable to fight back against a murderer.” He murmured. “This has to be frustrating for you both. Gerard, you taught your little harlot everything you knew, and then, well. She went and showed you what else she learned. Ingratiating herself to a fourteen year old that didn’t know any better, that was still dealing with grief until precious, beautiful, blonde little Katie came along and decided she could make him feel good.” He huffed a laugh. “You two and your hypocrisy. You talk a big game. Kill werewolves, they’re dogs, they need to be put down, you wouldn’t dare ever find yourself frolicking with one, hell, you have a suicide agreement if you ever get bitten by one. But you,” he looked at Gerard. “Got outsmarted by a dumbass sixteen year old and some mountain ash, all because you didn’t want to die, and you, Katie…” He looked at Kate, and then reached out, gripping her tightly around her damaged throat. The cold expression returned. “You just couldn’t keep your damn legs closed, could you? Couldn’t keep those hands to yourself. Had to have a taste of the life you were ruining before you finished the job.” He leaned close. “Any last words, my dear?”

Kate smiled through bleeding lips. “Fuck you.” 

Peter laughed. “Saucy right to the end. But sorry, Kate. Not even if I were into necrophilia.” His claws surged forward, deeply into Kate’s throat. And then he yanked his hand back firmly, tearing it out before he turned his attention to Gerard. “Stiles, dear, kindly think up ways to make sure that Gerard’s bouncing baby girl stays dead permanently, please?” He smiled, his teeth sharp, as he stared at the older man. Tilting his head to the side, he thought for a moment, and then reached for the backpack, searching through the pockets until he found what he was looking for. Picking the leaves up by the stems, there was an eerie expression of peace on his face as he brought his hand to Gerard’s mouth. “Now, now.” He murmured calmly. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” He gripped Gerard’s jaw with his free hand and forced it open, the fingers of his other hand pushing the poison ivy into Gerard’s mouth and down the back of his throat. He withdrew his hand, using his fingers instead to pinch Gerard’s nose, and the hand that had opened the old man’s mouth was now covering it, both forcing Gerard to swallow and suffocate.


	20. The Agreement

On Saturday, Stiles hugged Yates and walked through the cemetery, going back to his Jeep and climbing into the driver’s seat. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, sighing as he thought about how the past week had gone. A week ago, he had all of the answers for what he was doing after high school, and now everything felt like it was up in the air again. Without Greta, the diner would need someone else to take over. Yates was planning on it, but she had to wait until at least the end of the semester. She wanted him to push for an early graduation, since he was only attending classes to stay with his pack, and take over the diner for her until she could finish teaching. Even reminding her that he wasn’t eighteen yet hadn’t been enough to deter her, but he didn’t feel ready for anything. He had made so many stupid mistakes, had nearly gotten Liam killed because of a piece of candy. If the order of the rooms had been switched around, if Scott had been the one to make himself human for three days, Liam would have been dead. He didn’t know how to apologize for that, wasn’t sure Liam wanted him around. He had been avoiding the pack for the past few days, going so far as canceling their pack meeting, the night before. 

From the backseat of the Jeep, Peter and Derek both stared at Stiles before Peter cleared his throat. “Are you ready to stop avoiding us yet, or should we give you another day?”

Stiles snorted. “Actually, I was trying to figure out what Derek is even doing here.” He glanced over his shoulder at his ex-boyfriend, smirking. “Shouldn’t you be in school? You know, on the other side of the country?” 

Derek grinned at him. “Should be, but some guy I know is having a crisis and avoiding all of our friends, so I figured it was worth sticking around for a little bit longer.”

“It’s not a crisis.” Stiles protested. “It’s kind of a normal reaction, almost getting about twenty people murdered a bunch of times over the course of two hours and needing a little bit of time to sort through that. I’m fine, I’m just... Greta’s not coming back and I even offered, but Yates said not to do that to her. And I agree with that, anyway. So I could stop going to school and keep the place running, or piss off somebody who’s sort of my aunt, by proxy, and not do that.” 

“Is she making you feel like it’s absolutely necessary for you to do that?” Peter asked, frowning. “Is she pressuring you? If she is, I’ll have a talk with her. People will understand if the diner doesn’t open back up right away, with Greta gone. It’s called a mourning period, or an adjustment period, or just some damn respect. Pushing you to take over is unnecessary and foolish, considering she’s an adult, and -“

“You’re getting pissed off and you need to calm down, there.” Derek shook his head at Peter. “Breathe.”

“Maybe what I’ve decided is that I don’t like making the big decisions.” Stiles muttered. “I’ll plan dinner and come up with choices for movies, for afterward, and that’s about it.” 

“Then that’s all you need to do.” Derek told him quietly, shifting until he was sitting forward and leaning between the front two seats. “If that’s all you want to do, that’s more than enough, Stiles. You don’t need to take the whole world on your shoulders.” He smiled a little at him, his eyes soft, and he gestured at himself and Peter. “That’s what me, him, and the rest of the pack are here for. So we can back you up and take care of things for you.”

“We’re all supposed to work together.” Peter added quietly. “We don’t place every responsibility on the alpha. That was never supposed to be how it worked, and it was certainly never how it worked when Talia was alive.” He studied Stiles for a long moment. “Let me be your enforcer.” He said. “I’ll make the big decisions. The tough decisions. I’ve had practice. You had Lydia as your right hand, yes? And Allison as her back-up? Allow Allison to start learning from you, to start making practical choices for day to day decisions. I’ll cover the difficult ones.” He furrowed his brow, thinking. “If he were in town, I would say that I would take Theo under my wing and train him as the next enforcer, but I think in this instance, it may be time to start training either Boyd or Cora.”

“Cora. Boyd’s tough, but he’s -” Stiles hesitated, not wanting to say anything disparaging about any of the betas. “I think he’s more like a Care Bear cousin, not an actual Care Bear.” It wasn’t lost on him that Peter had suggested Allison be in charge more often, but he didn’t see the point in commenting on it. 

Peter’s lips twitched. “Then I’ll train Cora. She’s vicious enough, but she lacks…” He frowned, squinting. “Poetry.”

Derek snorted. “Poetry?”

Peter scowled. “There is a certain poetry to what I do, yes!”

“Uh, okay?” Stiles fought back a laugh. He felt frustrated by his interest in Peter and still didn’t know why the universe saw fit to punish him for the true love spell, when everyone else was happy. “Do I need to drive you both somewhere, or can you get out, so I can go home?” 

“You can drop me off at the loft.” Derek murmured. “I’m going to spend a little more time with Cora and Malia while I’m still here, but I hope you and I will get to spend a little time together before I go back to Boston?”

“When are you leaving?” Stiles started the Jeep and pulled away from the curb, driving toward the apartment building. 

“The end of next week, I think.” Derek shrugged and smiled. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here, but… they’re letting me turn in any assignments online, and I got everything I could for the week before I left. Gives me some time to catch up with everyone.”

“Then yeah, we’ll have time.” Stiles nodded. He pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, lifting a hand to say goodbye to Derek. “Uh, maybe Monday?” He suggested. 

Derek smiled, sliding out of the back of the Jeep. He rounded the car to Stiles’ side, and then reached in through the window for a hug. “Monday.” He agreed.

Stiles hugged Derek. He felt like he should be saying something more, but he wasn’t sure where to begin. Instead, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Peter. “Where am I dropping you off?” 

Peter beamed at him. “I’m glad you asked. I believe you can take me home with you.”

“Uh... okay.” Stiles shrugged, figuring that his dad and Peter would have to learn to get along eventually, for the good of the pack. Still, the timing felt strange. “Is there a reason you’re coming to my house?” 

Peter looked back at Stiles with his head tilted to the side. “I think you and I should have another talk about… what is likely to happen, because of your list. And I figured you would be more comfortable in your own surroundings, rather than mine, or Derek’s.”

“Oh.” Stiles eyed the red light in front of him, then made a decision when it turned green. He kept driving, ignoring the turn-off onto his own street, and parked near one of the trails in the Preserve. “Okay, what do you need to say?” 

Peter sat back in his seat, watching Stiles. He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip for a moment, and then said, “How… attached are you to the conditions you created for the spell?” He asked. He cleared his throat. “That is to say… you amended it once. Is there a way to amend it again?”

Stiles turned sideways in his seat, putting his feet up on the passenger seat as he folded his arms across his chest, thinking. “I don’t think that it means we have to honor it. I mean, you don’t have to - I know I’m a lot younger than you, and I know that everyone else expects us to end up together eventually, but I don’t. I can think of a lot of reasons why it wouldn’t work. I think I’ve kind of seen this coming, since you’ve never really given me a straight answer on any of it. And it’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, I can redo the whole thing.” 

“I don’t…” Peter exhaled softly. “Normally, I have no issue with taking advantage of people. But… when it comes to you. I have respect for you that I don’t really hold for many other people. I don’t want to take advantage of you. And this spell… I understand its purpose, I understand that it isn’t to push us toward something, but I… haven’t given you a straight answer because I suppose that I don’t want you to believe that any interest I have in you is solely because of the spell. Because it isn’t. My interest in you is solely because of you, not because of any medium that may have been drawn to connect us.”

“What if I undo the whole thing and that’s what happens, though?” Stiles looked over at Peter. “What happens after that?” 

“Stiles.” Peter murmured quietly. “The spell didn’t make feelings appear. All it did was give you awareness of who you were meant to be with.” He fell silent for a moment, and then sighed. “For the record, I do apologize that you seem to have been stuck with me. I’m aware that I’m not the most… ah, stable or logical person that the universe could have seen fit to stick you with.” He stared out of the window silently, his eyes on the trees and the squirrels and other wildlife he could see scampering through them. “I don’t think undoing your spell would cause anything to happen. It gave knowledge. The most it could do would be to take it away. You chose the things you wanted in a mate. You chose the things that would happen before meeting your mate. And because of the spell that Lydia did, we both know that… Fate seemed to have other plans. I know I’m not what you would choose for yourself, if you’d been given the choice, so maybe some of the things that have happened are simply coincidental. But if you undo the spell, and for some reason, it does take away our knowledge, then… We either start over, or we go on as we were before.”

“I already knew all of that. I know that this, whatever this is, isn’t because of the spell. But you asked me to change it, to undo it.” Stiles frowned, thinking. “Because somehow... I think you do believe that it’s a problem. But not for the reasons you said. I’ll drive you home, then I’ll go home and undo the whole thing. But it’s not like we ever had to act on it, anyway. It’s not like... I mean, you have a daughter my age, so...” 

Peter furrowed his brow. “That was never a problem for me.” He admitted. “Malia being the same age as you. I don’t care about that. Age means less than nothing to me.” He paused. “I suppose it should, given who your father is and how very much he would probably riddle my body with bullets if I ignore your age, but it really doesn’t matter to me.” He looked at Stiles. “And I’m starting to realize that I’m very bad at speaking about feelings. My intent, in speaking to you about this, was to actually, ah… ask if it was possible for you to speed things up.”

Stiles couldn’t resist referring to the joke that Hayden had started, months earlier. “‘That was my hopeful ear.’ Say it again?” 

Peter blinked, frowned, and then slowly repeated himself. “Can you speed this ridiculous shit up? Without the weddings, without the globe traveling, without the college graduation and whatever else you added that I can’t really be bothered to care about right now? You made those conditions when you didn’t want to let go of Derek - and then you let go of him.” He straightened in his seat and gestured at Stiles intently. “I’m here. If you want me.”

Stiles tilted his head, considering. “I’ll remove half of them.” He conceded. “From the ones that are left. I don’t know how long you’ve felt like this and I don’t need to know. I only know that for the past year, I’ve had no real idea about how you felt about me. Every time you ever said anything that made me think this could work, you said or did something else that made me think you didn’t see me like that, or didn’t want to. So yeah, I’m keeping half and you’re working on whatever it is that makes you think you’re not worth it, and I’m working on whatever makes me think I’m not worth it, and we’ll talk and see what happens.” 

“Meet in the middle, then?” Peter murmured. “Sounds like a deal.”

Stiles smiled, nodding. “I’ll let you pick two of the things that you want me to get rid of.” 

“The marriage clause you added.” Peter said immediately. “I’m not waiting until all of your betas are grown and ready to be married. I refuse.” He squinted at the younger man. “I need to think about the other one.”

Stiles laughed. He moved, getting his notebook out of his glovebox and studying the list. “Okay, I think I can cross off a couple more of these, anyway. The ‘walk around the world’ thing and the five people giving me stuff thing. I think the other day qualifies, and there’s your globe. So.” He eyed what was left, then handed the list to Peter. 

Peter grasped the notebook and studied it, humming silently. “Are college and the Cubs non-negotiable?”

Stiles snorted, then started laughing. “What are we doing?” He shook his head. “The whole thing doesn’t work, anyway? I mean, I wasn’t supposed to meet you until all of that stuff happened. But if we keep the college thing and ignore the really unlikely other stuff, would that be okay?” 

Peter lowered the notebook and turned it around to give it back to Stiles, smiling crookedly. “I could be okay with that.” He agreed.

Stiles started to cross off things, but he changed his mind and closed the notebook instead, putting it back into the glovebox. Something told him to just rewrite the new spell, but leave the old one there, to look back on. “Okay, so now what?” He looked over at Peter. 

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m open to anything.” He murmured.

“Then get out.” Stiles smiled. 

Peter blinked at him in surprise. “Ah. Okay?” He opened the door and slid out of the Jeep.

Stiles got out, circling around the Jeep and hugging Peter. 

Peter froze, before letting out a small laugh and hugging Stiles back carefully. “Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome.” Stiles nodded. “I actually want this to work out. I know I’d said I’d ask you on a date, and I still plan on doing that.” 

Peter lightly ran his hand over Stiles’ back. “But you’d like to take some time before you do?”

“I just haven’t figured out where I want us to go.” Stiles admitted. “You don’t seem like the bowling type, and I can’t invite you to the batting cages because, even if you do like that, that’s something I did with Derek and I don’t want you thinking the whole time that it’s weird?” He shook his head. “There’s not a whole lot to do around here. We could see a movie, I guess.” 

“Why don’t you come to my apartment?” Peter asked. “I’ll cook dinner - for once - and we can watch a movie there. I know this is supposed to be you asking me out, but… I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I don’t mind.” Stiles agreed. “Right now?” 

“If you like, yes.” Peter nodded. “But we may want to stop by the store and get some things.”

Stiles grinned. “Okay.” He thought about kissing Peter, but chickened out and got back into the Jeep, starting it as he waited for Peter to get in. 

Peter climbed back inside, taking the front passenger seat this time, and settled back with a small, contented smile on his lips.

Stiles glanced over at Peter a few times, on the way to the grocery store. As they walked in, he sent his dad a text. ‘Having dinner with Peter.’ 

‘Willingly?’ John texted back. ‘If so, save me leftovers. Gonna be at work all night.’ A sad-faced emoji followed the text.

‘Yes, and I would, but I'm not the one cooking.’ Stiles felt a little smug as he hit send, but he wasn’t sure why. He grabbed a cart and shoved his phone into his pocket. 

John’s reply of ‘brat!’ went unnoticed.

Peter glanced over at Stiles, looking bemused. “I’m thinking Italian.” He murmured. “Something with seafood. Are you averse to seafood?”

“Not at all.” Stiles smiled. “I’ll be a little freaked out if you buy a live lobster, though.” 

“They’re always better live.” Peter told him, but tilted his head. “Alright. No lobster. Shrimp? King crab? Maybe mussels, or… Ah, I know.” He bobbed his head thoughtfully and began walking toward the seafood counter. He peered through the glass at what was available, and then said to the attendant, “Two pounds of large scallops, side muscle removed, please,” before looking back at Stiles. He grabbed a scrap of paper out of his back pocket, and a pen from his front pocket, and scribbled down ingredients and measurements before handing the paper to Stiles. “Will you grab those for me?”

“Yeah.” Stiles wheeled the cart away, quickly gathering ingredients. Once he had at least a vague idea of what Peter was planning, he picked up a box of cake mix and a two-liter of Sprite, adding them to the cart. The idea of not making anything at all would just leave him restless while Peter cooked, so he figured he could make dessert. 

Peter met back up with Stiles, looking over the items in the cart in approval before setting the package in his hands into the cart as well. He settled a hand on Stiles’ back, leading the way toward the wine aisle and quickly choosing a chardonnay that he hid the price of from Stiles’ eyes before starting for the registers. 

Stiles laughed softly. “And this is one of the reasons I can’t run the diner. I can’t buy alcohol, to cook the kind of food I want to make. But it feels like a lame excuse.” 

“If Yates wants you to run the diner that badly, she can be the one to purchase the alcohol you need for your recipes.” Peter told him firmly, though he still sounded disapproving. 

“You really don’t like her.” Stiles marveled. “Why?” 

“Any number of reasons.” Peter replied casually. “I understand her grief over Greta, but if she ever speaks to me, you, or anyone else the way she did in the maze again, I will not be held accountable for my actions. I very much doubt Greta was a werewolf, so Yates must have been bitten. Beginning to wonder if she was left to fend for herself, or if the pack she may have been with were really so stupid so as not to teach her common courtesy when dealing with other shifters. Not to mention the way she seems to be pressing this thing with the diner on you. You deserve the chance to go to college and do what you want with your life, as soon as you want to or as late as you want to, and I’m not pleased with her taking liberties, solely because her mother adored you. I can recognize when someone is taking advantage of someone else - the person taking the advantage is usually me.”

Stiles knew he had planned to wait until at least after dinner to kiss Peter, but he walked around the cart, rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and leaned in to press his lips against his beta’s. 

Peter held absolutely still as soon as Stiles’ lips touched his, and as soon as he was positive that Stiles wasn’t about to pull away in a panic, he lifted both hands and settled them on Stiles’ waist, tilting his head and kissing the younger man back gently. 

“Thank you.’ Stiles murmured quietly. “I guess it didn’t even occur to me that she was doing that. It’s easy for me to know when someone is trying to manipulate Scott, but it’s harder when it’s me, you know?” 

Peter gazed down at him. “Forgive me for saying this, but you see everything, Stiles. And you’re so confident that you see everything, that you do tend to miss it when something out of the norm happens to you.” He said gently. “That’s another reason why you have a pack - why you have your right and left hands, why you have their support and your betas. All it will take is our loyalty, and just one of us to catch on to something being off.” He lifted his hand from Stiles’ waist and stroked his thumb lightly over the younger man’s cheek with a sigh. “I think that she could be a good woman. But I also believe that she is only thinking of herself and her grief, at the moment, and if there is someone around that she finds she can utilize to her own ends, she will not hesitate to do so. What I said in the Jeep about the diner being closed because of Greta’s absence… it still holds true. The diner is not going anywhere - it’s been a staple in Beacon Hills since Talia and I were children, and I know that the people here would more than understand if it were to shut down for awhile until Yates either took over, or found someone else - not you, at least not through guilting you - to take over. Encouraging you to graduate early for the sole purpose of running yourself into the ground to take care of her mother’s restaurant? If she wants to keep it running that badly, then she should be the one to make arrangements. She needs to go on a leave of absence from the school and take over, not pressure a seventeen year old to do it for her. It’s lazy, inconsiderate, and if she tries to guilt you into it again, she’ll be discussing the matter with me. And it won’t be pleasant.”

“I’ll tell her to back off, first thing on Monday.” Stiles nodded. “I won’t let her manipulate me. Let’s just go to your house and have dinner. I haven’t eaten anything all day.” 

Peter nodded, looking around, and then he snagged a box of granola bars off of a shelf, handing it to Stiles. “To tide you over. “ He murmured. 

Stiles eyed the box. “Have you ever even tried to eat these?” He asked lightly, setting them back on the shelf. “They’re stale and about as appetizing as cardboard.” He picked up a different brand of granola bars. “These are better.” 

Peter looked amused. “Well, now I know. I won’t sully your good taste again.”

“You can mock me all you want, but I like _you_. Dumbass.” Stiles grinned. 

Peter couldn’t help grinning, looking pleased. “It’s not like I take offense.” He teased, tilting his head to kiss Stiles lightly.

Stiles couldn’t stop smiling, relieved at the way things were turning out. “Are we done here?” 

“I believe so, yes.” Peter murmured, and slid an arm around Stiles casually. “Let’s go.”

When they got to Peter’s apartment, Stiles took the opportunity to go through the kitchen cabinets. He got a mixing bowl and a stirring spoon, pouring the cake mix in and adding some of the soda. He watched Peter as he stirred the ingredients together. When he was younger, he thought that things would be like this with him and Lydia, except he had always pictured himself being the one cooking dinner while she worked on theorems. In his mind, she was always creating a new one. Later, with Derek, he thought of busy mornings and being surrounded by adopted kids who would eat breakfast, get their packed lunch, and walk to school together. But now, with Peter, he was picturing a lot of evenings like this. No pack, no other Hales, no Argents. Just him and Peter. Stiles didn’t have some delusion of being Allison’s stepfather-in-law or whatever nonsensical title she might insist on giving him; he just wanted to be comfortable around someone who saw him as an equal. But there were a lot of unanswered questions that they would have to talk about, eventually. 

Peter pulled out a skillet and added butter to it before sliding it onto the heat, smiling faintly. He glanced at Stiles as he unpacked the scallops and seasoned them, then began creating the sauce for the scallops. His eyes flicked up to Stiles frequently, looking extraordinarily happy.

Stiles laughed softly. “Is this how you pictured things turning out, ever?” 

Peter huffed in amusement. “Not at all. Honestly, it’s… I expected to get revenge for my family. I even expected to die. If I didn’t die, I figured I would live and use the bearer bonds I had been saving since before the fire for an apartment, a car, anything else I desired. If I ended up with anyone, I figured it would be nothing more than a one-night stand. I didn’t want anyone long-term then, because I assumed it would be a way to replace people who couldn’t be replaced.” He grabbed another pan and added more butter to it, placing the scallops in it and letting them sear. “It never occurred to me that I could move on, and that it would be okay. It never occurred to me that there might be someone waiting for me, that was meant for me.” He raised his eyes to look at Stiles. “I know I didn’t give you much reason to think of me in a different light. I had, after all, bitten Scott, was openly manipulating my nephew, attempting to kill your friends.” He trailed off, frowning. “Maybe I should start again.” He turned to properly face Stiles. “I’ve always been fond of you. I never really knew why, but… I don’t just offer to bite anyone, Stiles. And I certainly hadn’t planned to offer you a choice if I did. Or honor that choice.”

“You had just woken up and found out that time had moved on, even though you hadn’t.” Stiles shrugged. “I’m not saying every decision you made was the right one, but we just spent the past week killing people who wanted to kill us. It’s not like someone tripped and spilled beer on your shoes, Peter. They killed your family. When Jennifer had my dad, I wanted her dead. I only didn’t try to kill her because I didn’t know where he was, and she wouldn’t have told me unless Derek and Scott protected her from Deucalion. But I was so...” He shook his head, grabbing a cake pan and pouring the batter into it before he spoke again, needing something to do with his hands. “I cared about Derek. I still do, just not the way that - uh, I’m going to be honest with you.” He licked his lips. “I won’t say Derek meant nothing to me, but I saw myself as being like, his starter boyfriend. Not that he was new to relationships. New to good ones. Anyway, all I’m saying is that I knew he wasn’t my forever, even before I asked him a question, just to verify that for myself.” 

Peter hummed. “Well, it’s good to know that you won’t go running back to him if he bats his big green eyes at you.” He teased. “Besides, I think mine are prettier.” He flashed his eyes at Stiles, complete with an eyebrow wiggle. 

Stiles laughed and put the cake into the oven, standing up straight and looking at Peter again. “You have a certain appeal.” He said finally, smirking. 

Peter looked back at him dryly. “A certain - you’re cruel.” He sighed. “Stomping on my image of my own attractiveness like that.”

“Stop whining, you’re know you’re pretty.” Stiles muttered. 

Peter reached for Stiles’ arm and tugged him closer. “Yes? Well. You’re very pretty, too.” He looked into Stiles’ eyes and trailed his thumb over Stiles’ wrist. “You’re… frankly, you’re probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He admitted quietly.

Stiles smiled softly. “You were in a coma for six years.” He teased. “You missed out on a lot of movies, you know? Lots of actors and actresses.” 

“Ah, yes.” Peter threw his head back, smiling and shaking his head. He held Stiles closer to his side, his arm wrapped firmly around Stiles’ waist. “So what you’re saying is that I can take my pick of anyone popular that happened to come on the scene in two-thousand and five and choose to pursue them instead of you? Well, I mean, if you say so.”

“Yeah, except then you’d never get any of the food I cook, ever again.” Stiles shook his head. “Your loss.” 

“Damn.” Peter murmured. “I suppose I’ll have to woo you for quite a bit longer, then.”

“You’re never getting rid of me.” Stiles laughed, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “When’s a good time to talk about serious things? After dinner? Next year?” 

Peter wound his arms around Stiles’ waist, his fingers stroking lightly over Stiles’ back. “Anytime you like, but I usually prefer serious matters to wait until after my stomach is full.” He paused, and then said, “Hold that thought,” before turning around to face the stove, flipping the scallops.

Stiles eyed the time on his watch, not wanting the cake to burn. He hadn’t bothered buying frosting, too used to the habit of not letting his dad have the sugary topping. Cake didn’t need it anyway, he figured, but Peter might disagree. “I don’t know how you feel about it.” He leaned against the counter, watching Peter cook. “But I don’t like any mystery. I think that’s why this was getting to me, before you said anything. But that’s not your fault. It’s just that I know all too well how short life is, and I know that you do, too. I just want to make sure we agree on the big deal things. If we don’t, that’s going to mean a lot of discussion later. I’m over-explaining, I know. Consequences of never being able to shut up when I’m nervous.” 

“Mm, I’m aware.” Peter replied, smiling faintly. “But it’s alright. Surprisingly, I like it. It amuses me. And I suppose I’m also concerned about certain things - in which case, go ahead and ask and explain and tell me everything you think I should know, so that we know where we both stand.”

“Kids.” Stiles blurted. “Adopting kids. Or finding a surrogate. I know you have Malia and I'm not even - it’s not like you’d be replacing her, or whatever. But you missed out on a lot of her life and it’s not... god, I suck at this. I don’t want us to have one as like, a do-over, for those years you didn’t get with Malia. But I think one day, I’d like to have at least two? And I don’t know how I’d handle taking care of a baby. I had to take care of a sack of flour, and that was weird, but I feel like babies would be easier, not harder. I mean, uh... okay, gross analogy, but kids don’t rip open and spill their guts all over the floor. You can’t just sweep them up and then - “ He sighed. “I had to write a paper on child abuse. It was pretty terrible. Where was I going with this?” 

Peter reached out, threading his fingers through Stiles’ hair and tugging him close for a kiss. “One day. When you’ve done everything you want to do, college, career, with the pack, without the pack. We’ll look into it. I’m not against the idea, Stiles. I missed my chance with Malia. I’d like the chance to try again.” He paused, squinting thoughtfully. “And oddly, I think she’d enjoy the chance to be a big sister, regardless of whether it’s biologically, or by adoption.”

Stiles looked relieved. “Well, that’s the only thing that’s been bothering me, as far as this goes.” He gestured between himself and Peter, then leaned in for another kiss. 

Peter’s lips twitched, and he tilted his head, more than happy to kiss Stiles back.

**

A couple of hours later, Stiles leaned against Peter as they watched a movie. He wasn’t paying much attention to it, though. He had his fingers laced with Peter’s, and he was tracing lines over the other man’s palm, letting his mind wander. 

Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie either; instead, he was completely focused on Stiles’ fingers tracing over the inside of his hand. He pressed his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head, inhaling the scent of the younger man’s hair and shutting his eyes in contentment. The movie droned on in front of them, and Peter couldn’t have brought himself to care.

Stiles glanced at Peter, smiling to himself. “Do I need to leave, and let you sleep?” He asked softly. 

“No.” Peter replied. “Absolutely not.” If anything, he tightened his hand around Stiles’, keeping him close.

Stiles laughed. “Okay. I’m going snooping around your apartment for a minute, though.” 

“As long as you don’t step foot in my bedroom.” Peter replied seriously. “You can go anywhere in the apartment except there.”

“Why, do you have a sex swing in there or something?” Stiles snorted. 

“Or something.” Peter murmured, looking thoughtful. “Although now that you’ve said something, maybe I should look into that.”

Stiles could feel himself blushing, and he decided not to bother calling attention to it. “Seriously, why can’t I go into your bedroom?” 

“No reason.” Peter grinned. “I just wanted to see what you’d say and do.”

“Well, knock off that ‘west wing’ crap.” Stiles shook his head, smiling. “I’m going to raid your room right now.” He got up, walking away to explore the rest of the apartment. 

Peter stood and followed Stiles toward the bedroom, hands grasped behind his back with a small smile. “Do you think you’re going to find the secrets of the universe in there? I assure you, anything I have hiding in there is usually in regards to self-pleasure or pleasuring others. Although I suppose, in a way, my prowess could be seen as enlightenment.”

“I’m not looking for sex toys.” Stiles shook his head. “Just a tv and a remote control, maybe a dvd player.” 

Peter looked at him curiously. “Really? I don’t have any of that in there. It’s all in the living room.”

“Some people like to sleep with the tv on.” Stiles explained, shrugging. “And you seemed tired, so I thought we could lay down in there and finish the movie. But it probably makes more sense not to let yourself get distracted when you’re trying to sleep?” 

Peter chuckled and sidled up behind Stiles, wrapping his arms around him. “It does make sense.” He agreed. “But laying down together sounds very good.”

“And not too fast?” Stiles asked carefully, leaning back against Peter and closing his eyes. 

“If we were to do anything other than laying down, yes.” Peter nuzzled against Stiles’ head, sighing. “I’m perfectly happy taking the time to lay down and sleep in the same bed with you.”

“Let me just send my dad another text and let him know I’m not going to be home.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t want him to worry.” 

“Alright.” Peter nodded. “Yes. Go ahead.” He reluctantly let go of Stiles, brushing a kiss against his cheek before fully pulling away.

Instead of texting his dad, Stiles called him. “Hey. I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be home until tomorrow.” 

“Are you staying at Scott’s? Or are you still at Peter’s?” was John’s immediate reply.

“I’m still at Peter’s.” Stiles said calmly. 

John sounded hesitant when he spoke next, but he also sounded like he was doing his best to be supportive. “Alright. Um… just, you know. Call me if you need anything. Even if it’s three in the morning. And - hey, that goes for both of you, okay? You know I’ll answer in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “We’ll talk, when I get home.” 

“Okay.” John agreed, exhaling. He sounded like there was a smile on his face then. “I love you, kiddo. Have a good night.”

“I will. Love you too, Dad.” Stiles hung up and went into Peter’s room. He had already shrugged out of the suit jacket he wore to the funeral, before they ate dinner. He took off his shoes and pants, folding the pants carefully and setting them on top of Peter’s dresser before he eyed the bed. “What side do you sleep on?” 

Peter watched him steadily. “I sprawl.” He admitted. “Big empty bed. No one to share it with.” He tilted his head, and then sat down on the edge. “I’ll have to get used to it, now that I do.”

“I have a feeling that this is going to be a serious adjustment for both of us.” Stiles laughed. “I move around a lot, in my sleep.” 

“I sleep like a log, and I’ll probably pin you to the bed at some point.” Peter assured him. “I’m not worried.”

Stiles shrugged and unbuttoned his shirt, folding it and putting it on top of his pants before he laid down on the bed. 

Peter had already changed into a thin pair of sleep pants. He removed his shirt, then, tossing it uncaringly into a heap on the floor before he settled into the bed as well. He drew one arm over his head and tucked it under his pillow before resting his other hand on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Malia has been harassing me about finding apartments in New York.” He murmured. “I’ve been looking. I’ve found a few that seem alright, but I’m not sure about them just yet.” He looked over at the younger man. “I want your help with this. I know you wouldn’t be living with me, but I’m assuming that if Allison doesn’t live either on campus, or with you and Kira, she’ll be living with me and Malia. And… I’d like to have the room for the nights when you clearly will need an escape from the kitsune.”

“Then you’re looking at something with a decent kitchen and hopefully, a balcony. Not just for me, but for you and Malia.” Stiles mused. “Besides, not having a balcony in New York seems too risky. Fire hazards and all.” He grimaced. “Shit. Okay, that was a legitimate concern, but I don’t want to sound too casual about it.” 

“It _is_ a legitimate concern, though, I agree.” Peter smiled over at him. “Thank you for thinking of that.” He shifted on the bed and turned toward Stiles. “What if I look at a place that has a backyard, instead of a balcony?”

“That works, too.” Stiles laughed. “I guess I didn’t think of any place having a yard, like that. In all of the movies I’ve seen about New York, someone lives in a high-rise apartment and has to go down a dozen flights of stairs if the elevator is broken. I feel like an idiot right now, saying this.” 

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. Nor do I think you sound like one.” Peter said firmly. “I think you’re right. There’s a rare chance that I could find a building in New York that has a backyard, but it would probably be in my best interests to find a place with a balcony as well.” He grinned crookedly. “And this is why I asked for your help.”

“By Friday, I’ll have at least thirty apartment listings for you to look at.” Stiles murmured. 

“That’ll be more than enough.” Peter murmured. “And let’s see if you can narrow some of them down to around Columbia’s neighborhood. Or near your place.”

“I can do that.” Stiles nodded. 

“Good.” Peter laughed quietly, and lifted his hand from his chest, holding it out toward Stiles. “Now come here. Let’s go to sleep.”

Stiles scooted closer to Peter, laying on his side and resting his head on Peter’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds around them. He wasn’t tired, but he was too comfortable to move.

Peter tilted his head to rest against Stiles’, wrapping his arm soundly around the younger man and holding him close to his chest.

**

When he got home the next morning, Stiles didn’t bother going straight to his room. He sat down by his dad and glanced over at him. “Go ahead. Say whatever you’re going to say.” 

John straightened to look at Stiles, and then sighed heavily, turning to properly face him. “I… it makes me nervous that your soulmate is so much older than you are.” He admitted. “And I understand, I know, age shouldn’t be a factor in anything, but it’s something that still niggles in the back of my head when I think about it. You’re seventeen, and the person you’re meant to be with is twice your age. Society frowns on it… though I don’t really know why, since they didn’t have a problem with it in the Middle Ages when they were marrying ten year old girls off to forty-five year old men.” He clapped his hands together as he thought, a deep frown crossing his face. “Look, this isn’t me telling you what to do with your life. I won’t do that. It’s _your_ life, that’s the point. I’m going to support you in whatever you do, whether you see Peter or don’t see Peter, whether you go to college or backpack across India for a year, whether you decide you want to be a cop, or a chef. And… Peter seems different around you. Respectful. Protective. Happy. It’s good to see. And I know he’s never hurt you. I guess this is… just something I had to get off my chest. I can talk to Melissa about it, I suppose, but it isn’t the same as talking things over with you, voicing any worries I have that he won’t treat you in the absolute best way that he possibly could. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I just want to know that he gets that. That he understands how important you are, how special.” He paused. “Though I guess by taking the chance on dating my currently underage teenage son, he has a fair idea of it, so that means he either gets it, or that he’s much braver than I thought.” He shook his head. “Either way, if he’s it, if he’s the one the universe thinks deserves to be with you, well… it might take a little adjusting on my part, but - I’m okay with it. I’m okay with him. And I need you to know that.”

Stiles smiled, nodding. “When Allison told me that it was him, it made sense. That doesn’t mean I was fine with it. I felt like crap. Dating someone, just to find out I’m better suited to be with his uncle? Yeah, not a feeling I want to revisit. But he’s been different since he found out. It’s just taken some time. In June, he was angry that Allison and Malia were together, but yesterday? He suggested that I teach her how to make decisions, as my second-in-command. That’s such a big deal. And he’s getting a place in New York. Or I guess, technically, we are. Because he wants me to help him find somewhere I would be comfortable. But I won’t live there. Just stay sometimes. Anyway, Peter’s been afraid to say anything to me, because of our age difference. He actually apologized to me for being exactly the sort of person I want, because he’s not the most sane. I pointed out that I’m not, either. We’re just going to have to work through it together.”

“That’s the best way to do it.” John said, his eyes as soft as the smile on his face. He thought about what Stiles was saying, somewhat surprised at Peter actually apologizing for being himself, for being the sort of person Stiles could fall in love with, and it made him soften toward the werewolf more. His hand reached up to gently ruffle Stiles’ hair. “Maybe the two of you being just that little bit of not-quite-sane will balance you out.” He looked thoughtful. “It makes sense, really.” He murmured. “That he wouldn’t want to say anything to you about it. After what Derek went through, finding out that his - what were you calling it, his OTL? It must’ve been a shock to find out that you were a teenager, that you were meant to be together and that it was okay when other people find it so wrong in so many other instances. I always thought that killing Kate was just as much his revenge for murdering his family as it was for how she snowballed Derek.” He thought a little more and then nodded. “It looks like he’s making a lot of forward strides, then, if he’s actively encouraging you to train Allison, given how he felt about her and her family.” He huffed. “You know, he’s surprising me more and more every day. It’s impressive.”

Stiles nodded. “Me too. I didn’t have any nightmares last night, either. I have a long week ahead of me, checking in with the pack individually before we have our usual Friday night meeting. I’m not canceling another meeting for a long time. I can’t say I’ll never do it again, but I figure the next time, it’ll be because two of them are getting married the next day and it’ll be redundant.” He laughed.

John chuckled fondly. “Sounds like a good plan,” he agreed, nodding. He reached out to grab Stiles, pulling him into a tight hug with a sigh. “I really am happy for you, kid.”

“Thank you.” Stiles murmured. 

“What are your plans for today?” John asked, pulling back. 

“I plan to get caught up on homework, probably call Scott, cook food for the rest of the week, to save myself time later.” Stiles mused. “Why?” 

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing something with your old man.” John murmured. “Anything you want. Even if it’s just a return to Monopoly night.”

Stiles glanced at his dad. “Yeah.” He forced a smile, feeling guilty that he had spent the past few days avoiding everyone. “But maybe chess instead?” 

John straightened, looking delighted. “Chess. Yes, definitely.”

Stiles got up, walking over to the shelf where they kept the chess boards and pieces. “I should probably also tell you that I was asked to take over Greta’s for a few months. But I’m not going to.” 

“Who asked you to take over for Greta?” John asked, moving the table closer. He straightened and looked at Stiles curiously. 

“Yates. She can’t quit teaching until the end of the semester, and she doesn’t want her mom’s diner to be closed for the next few months. I mean, I get it, but I’m not even eighteen yet. I feel like she probably blames me for what happened, even though she says stuff that... indicates the opposite.” Stiles set the board down and opened the container of chess pieces, starting to place them on the board. 

John’s lips pursed together. “You’re a kid. She’s got a lot of nerve blaming you for anything, especially when she should be blaming the psychotic old bastard that kidnapped us all to begin with.” He muttered. Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he added, “She most certainly can quit teaching. She can do a lot of things, including going on a leave of absence, or finding someone else to take over, if she wants the diner to stay open. They have substitute teachers for a reason. They have want ads. If anything, it sounds like she was trying to butter you up to take advantage of you.” He studied his son. “If anything, I know you feel guilty about what happened to Greta, and if I know you do, then I’m betting she does, too.”

Stiles grimaced, trying to keep his temper under control, but it was difficult to do. The last week had been too full of disaster. “I understand what you’re saying.” He began, gripping the edge of the table. “But of all the people in the world, you should know what being contractually obligated is like and how it feels when your hands are tied. Otherwise, you would have been at the hospital with me every day, while Mom was sick. Right? You would have been there when her heart stopped?” 

John fell silent, looking stricken. He looked down, then sighed. “Yeah. I absolutely would have.” He agreed. 

“I know that Yates isn’t being the kindest person to me right now.” Stiles murmured. “But I understand it. I know how it felt when my mom died and I have Greta to thank for giving me something else to think about. Yates doesn’t have anyone like that. Not anymore. If I can return the favor, even slightly, I want to. But I can’t just take over running a diner.” He frowned. “And I can’t play chess right now. I have to take care of some other stuff.” He got up from the table, going to his room and calling Scott. 

“What’s up?” Scott asked, sounding like his mouth was full.

Stiles snorted. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Huh?” Scott swallowed. “You caught me while I was eating a burger, sorry. What’s going on?”

“I need you to come over and help me plan out a schedule and a menu for the next few months.” Stiles explained. “You can bring Hayden and maybe call a few other people?” 

“Uh, sure. But why are we making schedules and menus?” Scott asked in confusion.

“Because Yates may or may not be trying to get involved in a power struggle with me and I’m not interested in letting her think she has the upper hand.” Stiles explained. “So I’m meeting her halfway on this, or at least as much as I’m legally able to budge, and that’s all she gets.” 

“Okay. But I mean… does she think, like, she’ll be alpha or something? ‘Cause she knows that there’s two of us, right? And, like, if Peter ever has his way, I’m sure he’d be one, too. Either way, a power struggle between a dragon and a werewolf probably isn’t gonna end well for her.”

Stiles laughed. “I wish all of you would at least try to fucking understand.” He muttered. “Just come over, okay?” 

“Okay.” Scott mumbled. “I’ll be right there.”

Stiles hung up and walked over to his whiteboard, drawing rows and columns as he tried to plan out what he was going to do.

Scott arrived not long after that, walking into Stiles’ room with a hand wrapped around Hayden’s. He dropped down onto Stiles’ bed, tugging her down with him. “Allison said she’d be over soon. I’m not sure if she’s bringing Malia or not.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay.” He glanced at his best friend. “Sorry for losing my temper. It’s just that everybody is pissed off on my behalf and nobody is really thinking about what Yates is going through. And yeah, she’s got me pissed off, too. But at least I can see past it? She’s grieving and angry and wants someone to blame. I’m not letting her blame me. First of all, I can’t run the diner, even if I did quit attending classes and get my diploma. I’m not allowed to work more than twenty-eight hours a week. I mean, I guess it’s a little different if I quit going to school, but I don’t want to.” He shook his head. “Second, she’s got to join the pack and learn her place, or the deal’s off the table. I won’t make her do stupid shit for my own amusement, and when she’s my teacher, she’s in charge of what I do in class.” He shrugged. “But if she wants to give me a high value in her life, making me in charge of a restaurant that she now legally owns? She’ll deal.” 

Scott sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees to study Stiles carefully. “That sounds logical. Super reasonable.” He nodded in agreement. “As for her blaming you or whatever, and everyone being annoyed for you, I mean… I’m sorry, dude, but I’m not really going to apologize for being defensive and protective of you. I love you, bro, and if someone treats you like shit, I’m going to be pissed off.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I _am_ really sorry that she lost her mom. Losing your mom was brutal enough, so… yeah, I get it. I understand, I do. I just think there are better ways to go about it than… I don’t know, playing games with you about it. I don’t know. But… I’ll lay off of her.”

“I didn’t say you had to do that, either.” Stiles smiled. “Right now, she’s the lowest-ranking member of our pack. If there’s ever a time to make use of a hierarchy, it would be with her. Remember how I made Peter come back and sit down at the table before I dismissed him?” 

Scott grinned, letting out a little giggle. “Yeah. That was great. Erica was so mad that we didn’t record it.”

“I’m sorry that I missed it.” Hayden smiled at her boyfriend. “You’re kind of adorable when you do that.” 

Scott grinned down at her, tilting his head to the side to kiss her. “I get that a lot. Mostly from old people.” He pulled back. “You mean the giggling, right?”

Hayden nodded. “Mm-hmm, the giggling.” She laughed. “Stiles, can you give me about twenty hours a week on that schedule?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” Stiles kept his gaze on the board, trying to give Scott and Hayden privacy. He wasn’t a big fan of watching his friends indulge in public displays of affection.

Allison knocked lightly on the door, poking her head into the room with a smile. “Hi. Sorry I’m running behind. What are we talking about?”

“Hayden thinks that Scott is cute.” Stiles grinned. “How do you feel about putting a power-hungry teacher back in her place, while also helping her cope with the loss of her mom?” 

Allison’s eyes glinted. “Sounds like fun. What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to tell Yates that I’ll help her, but that I can only work twenty-eight hours a week.” Stiles gestured to his whiteboard. “And no more than four hours on a school night. And that she has to join the pack, and pay me fourteen dollars an hour because that’s the minimum that someone in my position would earn. I’m going to give my video store hours to other people who could use them.” 

“Give them to Liam. Or - no, not Liam, he’s got lacrosse practice. Mason.” Scott suggested. 

“Yeah, I figured Mason and Corey could cover it. Uh, a couple of my co-workers died in a fire last week, something about a fire-breathing dragon attacking people in the park.” Stiles looked sheepish. “You and Boyd have jobs, Liam can’t do it, Malia’s not ready to be around that many people, and Cora doesn’t care. The adults already have jobs.” Stiles looked at Allison. “That just leaves you, Isaac and Erica. And if I’m going to be running the diner, I’m going to rearrange schedules so that you guys can keep working with me and everyone else can work during the hours when school is in session.” He pointed to the board. “I already kept Fridays open for us.” 

Allison leaned over to look at the board with interest, nodding thoughtfully. “Alright.” She looked at Stiles, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m thinking around twenty-four hours for me, a week. I have that one ‘class’ that’s really just a study hall on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I can leave school early.”

“You’re eighteen, you could work forty hours a week, if you wanted to.” Stiles murmured. “But yeah, I’ll add you to something. The restaurant or the video store?” 

“The restaurant.” Allison decided, glancing back at Stiles. A small smile crossed her lips. “And I _could_ work forty. I just really don’t want to.” She pointed at herself. “People person. Not one.”

“Neither am I, yet here I am, being in charge of twenty-two of them.” Stiles retorted. “I need to talk to you about that, anyway. With Lydia not being around, I’m going to have you start making more decisions.” 

Allison blinked slowly, her mouth dropping open slightly. “Me? Really?”

“You were expected to be the Argent matriarch.” Stiles mused, sitting down in his desk chair and looking up at her. “And now the Argent family, at least the ones you can trust, have really dwindled. I’m sounding like an asshole and I don’t mean to.” He shook his head. “You have a good understanding of war tactics, probably at least equal to me. If not better. Not even Lydia has that. I’m sure she’s read _The Art of War_ , but it’s not the same thing as having to put it into practice.” 

Allison blushed. “I… well, I mean… thank you. I just… I hope I can make you proud. I know decisions haven’t been my strong point in the past.”

“We were all scared and not thinking clearly. Probably drugged, to get us into that maze.” Stiles frowned. “Dizzy and hungry and any number of things. I just want to put that behind us.” 

Allison nodded. She had actually meant the multiple points in her past where she’d screwed up a decision, all the way back to the day she’d decided to allow Gerard to ‘train’ her after her mother had died, but she did want to move on. She’d meant what she’d told him - she really did want to make him proud. Dwelling on the mistakes of her past wouldn’t help her do that.

“I’m letting you decide what we have for dinner and what movie we watch, on Friday.” Stiles told her. “I know it sounds simple, but you have to pick something that everyone can agree on, and that’s not easy.” 

Allison paled a little, but she nodded. “O-Okay.” She blinked a little. “Um. I might have to do some research. On the food part. And… I’ll also need help with the actual cooking part.”

“Oh, I’d cook.” Stiles smiled. “I’m just making whatever you decide I should make.” 

Allison exhaled in relief. “Oh, good. If I cooked, everyone would end up eating something a la burned as hell.”

Scott snorted out a laugh, dropping his face to Hayden’s shoulder.

Hayden smiled. “Whatever we’re watching, it shouldn’t have any violence in it. I think we’ve all had enough of that.” 

Allison nodded fervently. “Oh, agreed. So agreed.” She tilted her head. “Hope everyone likes Disney.”

“I love Disney.” Hayden grinned. 

“Just as long as it’s not Hunchback.” Stiles muttered. 

“No.” Allison shook her head. “Definitely not. No religious-themed whatever, no violence, just… nauseatingly cutesy comedic… something or other.” She promised. Her lips twitched a little. “Peter’s gonna kill me.” She giggled.

“Actually, he might be a little preoccupied?” Stiles said quietly. “Uh, we’re kind of a couple now. Definitively.” 

Allison’s eyes widened. A second later, she was flailing and throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “That’s amazing.” She told him. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you.”

“Dude!” Scott blurted, laughing. “That’s awesome!”

“I knew this would happen eventually.” Hayden teased. “What happened, anyway? Did he sacrifice himself to save you?” 

“Shut up, heathen.” Stiles laughed. He hugged Allison, his expression going serious. “I don’t want to talk about that.” 

Allison hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. “We won’t.” She murmured. “But really, this is amazing. I - hey, wait, didn’t you - what about the spell?” She asked, looking surprised. “Did you amend it again?”

“Actually, no. I decided it was kind of lame, since it didn’t work out right for me. Maybe I messed it up somehow? I wasn’t supposed to meet him until the other conditions happened, but he asked me to get rid of a few of them. He didn’t want to wait until everybody else got married, to be with me. And I said that it was kind of stupid to wait, anyway. But I couldn’t bring myself to cross the other stuff off, and then I kind of didn’t have time, because I was busy. I just got home about half an hour ago.” Stiles smiled. 

Scott laughed softly. “You were with him all night?” He teased.

Allison smacked his arm. “Stop it, Scott.” She looked back at Stiles. “Maybe it did work, in a way? Because remember - parts of your original spell sounded like they were meant for Derek. I don’t think you messed it up, exactly, but I think that what you wrote down might have been…” She tilted her head. “Broad? Kind of? Like, you thought mine sounded like Derek, too, and it turns out this whole time that the only one who actually had Derek in mind was Lydia, whose spell was nothing like either of ours. So maybe we just both interpreted our spells’ requirements as being meant for Derek when we were really just thinking of other people - like you were really thinking of Peter, but Derek seemed more appropriate at the time? I don’t know. He just happened to fit the bill for most of the stuff on our lists, but not all of it.” She blinked a little. “I feel like I’m stuck on repeat, so I’m gonna stop and just say ‘yay’ and ‘congratulations’.” She turned to look at Stiles. “Yay! And also, congratulations!”

“I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, but thanks.” Stiles murmured. “It just kind of worked out that Peter had all of the qualities that I wanted. And I don’t think Lydia was thinking of Derek, either.” He shrugged. “It’s not that important, we’re with who we’ve ended up with. I just want to get through the rest of this school year, hopefully without someone else trying to kill us. That being said?” He picked up his pillow and started smacking Scott with it. “Yes, I spent the night at Peter’s apartment.” 

Scott let out an ‘oof’ of surprise, flailing his arms out as he tried to avoid the pillow. He laughed. “Did you _smooch_ him, huh? Did you cuddle and stuff? Ow!”

“You deserved that.” Allison told him dryly.

Stiles grinned at Allison. “Thank you.” He set his pillow down and sat back down in his chair. “And actually, yeah. We did.” 

Allison’s eyes softened, and she smiled back at him. “That’s really sweet.” She told him.

“I thought so.” Stiles muttered, frowning at Scott. “Got anything else you need to add?”

Scott held his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t being mocking! I’m happy for you, dude, seriously. I was just trying to tease you a little.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles stared at Scott, his jaw clenched. “Peter had to watch his family burn to death, and then he was comatose for six freaking years. He wakes up and doesn’t know how much time has passed, just that he wants to make people pay. And I’m not saying everything he did was right, or good, but when he was trying to get to the last of them? A bunch of jackass teenagers,” he pointed to himself, then waved a hand at Scott and Allison, “set him on fire for the second time in his life. While he was in shock? His nephew killed him. So then he comes back, just in time to find out that there’s this teenage mutant ninja lizard running around the only town he’s ever lived in. He has to protect his nephew from a pack of stupid, arrogant alphas and a darach, then one of the few people he respects, for whatever reason, gets possessed by a demonic fox spirit. Once _that’s_ over, amateur hunters are trying to kill everyone and then he wakes up by himself in a room and finds out that his only way out is to resurrect the fucking bitch who started ruining his life, in the first place. He’s been through a hell of a lot, and so have I, and I’m not saying you haven’t.” He shook his head. “But honestly? The worst of your problems was that people were telling you not to date Allison. They were also threatening to kill you _for_ dating Allison, but if you had backed off, you would’ve been fine. So it took us both most of this year, and a couple of near-death experiences, to realize that maybe waiting is a stupid plan. But go ahead and make jokes about me cuddling someone older than me.” 

Scott looked down, hunching in on himself. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, faltering every time any words tried to leave, and eventually, he shook his head and stood up. “I… I think it’s probably better if I go.” He said softly. He turned toward Stiles and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your face. You can tell Peter I’m sorry, too. I’d… tell him myself, but honestly, I’m probably, like… one of the last people he ever wants to see, so… I’ll try to respect that.” He paused for a moment, and added, “I didn’t mean to… criticize you and him. I’m glad you’re happy. Really.” He fidgeted in place, and then looked at Hayden, murmuring, “I’ll see you later,” before backing out of the room.

Hayden scowled at Stiles and punched him in the shoulder. “Thanks a lot.” 

“I probably deserved that.” Stiles muttered, turning toward Allison as Hayden left.

Allison shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not like we didn’t deserve everything you’ve ever said to us, now and in the past. You’re not wrong about what Peter’s been through, and he deserves understanding and sympathy. From an outside perspective, I’m the last person that should give him sympathy, but I do. And I absolutely understand what he’s been through.” She tapped her chin. “I need to personally apologize to him one of these days for what Kate did, and for my part after she died the first time.” She sighed, looking back at Stiles. She placed her hand over his and squeezed gently. “You know Scott, sweetie. You know he was just being his big, dumb, doofy _oblivious_ self. Even when he’s being a malevolent jerk, he had to have help from the full moon and being a new werewolf to do it.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I just worry sometimes that if I’m not careful, this power is going to end up going to my head. More than it already seems like it has.” 

Allison observed him thoughtfully. “We should run.” She told him. “I mean, we should run, and we should all start doing… I don’t know. Yoga. Meditation, something. I think it would help us all. Relax us and help us all get in, you know, the right frame of mind.” She squinted. “Have an open mind? Whatever, we should all get on the same page, you know? I think running could help us get frustration out, and then yoga before and after could definitely help us with the whole open mind thing.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have stopped running together, in the mornings.” 

Allison smiled back, gently nudging him with her shoulder. “Then let’s start it up again. Invite Peter - he knows the Preserve more than anyone else we know. There could be a bunch of paths in there that he could show us. If he wanted to, I mean.”

“He’ll want to. And he’s become more accepting of you, by the way. He said I should feel free to take a step back and train you, as my second. Since Lydia’s not around. It’s obviously something I agreed with.” Stiles nodded. “I know it’s probably weird to talk about it, since you’re dating Malia, but I haven’t slept that well in a long time. And seriously, all we did was sleep.” 

“It’s not weird.” Allison murmured. “Or… maybe it is, I don’t know. I think we’re in a special set of circumstances. Weird is relative. I don’t know. What I do know is that… I felt the same way with Malia. She big-spooned me the first night we shared a bed, and I get it, I absolutely get what you’re saying. I think it’s wonderful.” She looked at the bedcovers, smiling to herself. “He really suggested that? That’s amazing. I feel really…” She exhaled. “I feel like I really do have his approval. I’d like to know what I did, though. So I can keep doing it, you know?”

“It might just be that I trust you?” Stiles guessed. “Or maybe if you’ve been around him enough, he knows that you’re genuine.” 

“Maybe it’s all of that. Plus Malia.” Allison exhaled softly, smiling. “I’m just happy that… god. I’m happy. I’m really, really happy.”

Stiles grinned. “So am I. He invited me over for dinner and to watch a movie, and said he’d cook. So we went to the grocery store and he was just being really sweet. I’ve held back from kissing him for months now, because I thought he didn’t want to be with me. But he said he didn’t want Yates taking advantage of me, and I just felt like that was kind of the moment, if there even is such a thing.” 

There were practically hearts in Allison’s eyes. “He got protective over you because of a perceived threat? That -” she let out a low keen. “That’s beautiful. And that totally was a moment, that was most definitely _the_ moment, I am so glad you went for it. How did he react? Oh, did - did he pick you up and spin you around? Or was he, like, really manly about it and press you against a wall to kiss you back?”

“He kissed back, but we were in the grocery store. After that, there was a lot more kissing.” Stiles nodded. “But other than holding his hand while I tried to focus on the movie, after dinner? That was about as affectionate - well, no. I mean, the cuddling in bed.” 

Allison smiled. “The first time I kissed Malia - well, I should say the first time she kissed me because I was a chicken shit and couldn’t get up the nerve to do it - I had just bought us both ice cream, and I’d just taken a bite of mine.” She flushed. “Wasn’t expecting it, but… I really liked it. I’m still not entirely convinced, though, that she didn’t just also want a taste of chocolate.” She snorted.

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, that does sound like her.” He murmured. “How are you feeling about New York?” 

Allison sat up, her eyes glinting. “Excited. I can’t remember if I told you or not, so much keeps happening, but I know where I’m going.” She beamed at him, bouncing on the bed a little. “I decided on the Pratt Institute, and I’m going to be studying art history and design.”

Stiles hugged Allison again, laughing softly. “That’s awesome.” 

“ _You’re_ awesome,” Allison corrected, hugging him back. “I never would have thought going to college would’ve been an option for me if you hadn’t made me realize how much it could be. Hell, I have you to thank for helping me think of what I want my degree to be! You’ve been so ridiculously supportive of me for so long, I just…” She shoved the palm of her hand against her eye when her voice cracked, wiping away the dampness. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles felt like he was getting a little choked up, too. “This is going to sound messed up, probably, given the circumstances of everything we’ve been through in the past year. But you’re kind of like... my sister?” He snorted. “And I feel like everyone in the pack is family, too. But some more than others.” 

Allison wiped at her eyes again and laughed, nodding. “Yes. To all of it, but with us? Definitely, yes.” She smiled teasingly. “But, like, twin brother and sister. Or something.”

“You know what I think about sometimes? I still like to daydream about what it’s going to be like, when we’re done with college.” Stiles admitted. “But now it’s closer to being real. Lydia will do something amazing with math, I don’t even know what, but she will. And she’ll paint pictures for your art gallery. Because you’re going to have one. Scott will be a vet and Isaac will work with him, and Boyd and Erica will run the skating rink. Theo will work at the hospital. Probably with Corey.” 

“Jackson will take care of all of our taxes.” Allison added, laughing softly. “Derek will design our houses or remodel them. Just because he’s bored. Mason will probably go around, hunting down stories, or doing slice of life articles for the newspaper, and Cora will probably take pictures for him. And then she’ll get into taking pictures for the sake of taking pictures, and her stuff will end up in my gallery, too.”

“I can’t wait for all of it.” Stiles murmured. 

Allison sighed and slumped against him happily. “Neither can I.”


	21. The Promise

On Monday, Stiles knocked on Derek’s apartment door, feeling a little nervous and not sure why that was. He had already talked to Yates, who said she wanted to join the pack, and he had a lot of other people at school asking him questions that he was actually able to answer. 

Derek opened the door quickly, and smiled warmly at Stiles as he laid eyes on him. “Hi.” He murmured. “Come in.”

Stiles smiled as he set his backpack on Derek’s counter. “How have you been? I mean, besides the bullshit Gerard pulled?” 

“Besides that, I’ve been good.” Derek shut the door behind Stiles and gestured at the couch. “I’m sleeping better than I ever have. I’m doing really well in school, I’ve started drawing again, and Lydia and I are…” He breathed out slowly, smiling a little wider. “Well. You were right.”

Stiles laughed. “That’s really good. I’m happy for both of you. And everyone else in the pack. I’m starting to think I should make this a requirement of joining, doing the spell, you know? Even though you didn’t do it.” 

Derek held a hand up, and then pointed at him, grinning. “And I still maintain that was the right thing for me to do. With my luck, it would’ve taken me five years to end up with Lydia, and I would’ve been completely unwilling to break up with you.”

“So me breaking up with you was as necessary as I assumed that it was.” Stiles snorted. “Good to hear.” 

“Yes, it was necessary.” Derek murmured. “If only because…” He shrugged. “You got me to the point where I could be okay with relationships again. You helped me, just by being there with me. Without you, I don’t know that I would’ve been okay enough to ever be with Lydia. To be with Lydia at all.”

“Yeah, the phrase I used with Peter when I was explaining this was ‘starter boyfriend.’” Stiles murmured, shrugging. 

“Starter…” Derek let out a laugh. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” He folded his hands, studying Stiles with a smile. “How are things going with Peter, then? You two were playing off of each other really well in the maze.”

“I wouldn’t have made it through there without him.” Stiles admitted. “He asked me if we could ignore my clauses and just date. He wanted me to change the spell, and I realized that it was kind of pointless for me. I’m glad it worked for the rest of you, though.” 

Derek smiled. “Thank you. And hey, maybe the spell didn’t work for you because you didn’t actually want it to work.” He shrugged. “It’s just a thought.”

“Except that it did work, sort of?” Stiles shook his head, smiling. “Maybe I’m just defective.” 

“No,” Derek shook his head. “Maybe you’re right, maybe the spell did work. Maybe it worked, but not in the way you expected. Maybe it didn’t work at all. But it doesn’t matter whether it did or didn’t, because you have Peter now. And you are most definitely not defective.”

“It bothers me, anyway.” Stiles admitted. “I mean, I like being with him. It’s not that. It’s just the fact that everybody else’s spell worked one way and mine went really freaking sideways. I expected it to work. I mean, I - I’ve made mountain ash out of thin air, just by wanting it to form a barrier. I’ve seen Scott walk through katana blades, just because I told him he could do it and I believed that he could. The only thing I’ve wanted, since I was a kid, was to fall in love in a forever kind of way. So it stands to reason that... something went wrong. Okay, and yeah, that terrifies me a lot.” 

Derek looked thoughtfully at him. “Well… maybe it’s still in the process of working, then?” He suggested. “Maybe it’s not that the spell didn’t work, maybe it’s just that it’s still processing what it needs to do. You added the extra clauses before you knew your soulmate was Peter because you didn’t want to break up with me. But your other specifications… I know your first one was someone who would love you at first sight. Did you ever ask Peter when he fell for you?”

“No, I haven’t.” Stiles shook his head. “With you, I needed to know. With him, I don’t want to know. If it ever turned out that it wasn’t him, I’d probably do the whole thing over again and go live out in the desert, away from everybody.” 

Derek hummed. “Yeah, we don’t want you doing that. It’s hard to get together for Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas when one of us is living like a hermit in the desert.” He squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “I think you’d be surprised, but I’m not going to push you into asking him if you don’t want to. But I honestly think you’re good, Stiles - he’s not going anywhere. The one thing I can say about Peter with absolute certainty is that once he sees you as his, you’ve won his loyalty. He won’t let you go.”

Stiles smiled. “I was really hoping.” He murmured. “But anyway, are we here to talk about the spells, or something else?” 

“We’re here to hang out.” Derek laughed. “No business, just pleasure. Ah… metaphorically speaking.”

Stiles laughed. “We’ve got a new pack member.” He murmured, going over to the fridge to see what was in it. “Yates. Greta’s daughter. I told her that I’d help with the diner, no more than twenty-eight hours a week, until the end of the semester. But she has to join the pack.” 

“Isn’t she your cooking instructor?” Derek tilted his head, trying to recall the woman. 

“She was the one carrying Greta through the maze.” Stiles muttered. 

Derek grunted. “Right. So… I guess I’ll get to know her whenever we come back to town, then.”

“Peter hates her.” Stiles laughed. “I think he would have killed her in the maze if I hadn’t told him to back off.” 

Derek grinned faintly. “I kind of wish I’d been found in one of the first few rooms. It sounds like I missed some drama.”

“Mostly, it was Kira running her mouth about Allison.” Stiles nodded. “I threatened to make her our human test dummy if she didn’t shut up.” 

“What exactly does she have against Allison, anyway? What, is it Scott? Does she still have something against her because Scott loved her? Jesus.” Derek snorted. 

“She tried to say that because Gerard was forcing us to play his stupid game, Allison had to be involved.” Stiles explained. “Anyway, I’m still following through on basically being her babysitter for the next four years. She’s in for a lot of hell.” 

Derek huffed a laugh. “Good. Maybe in that time, she’ll learn a few things from you. And learn respect for the rest of the pack.”

“That’s what I’m hoping happens, yes.” Stiles smiled. 

**

On Friday, Stiles went to the loft right after school, since he wasn’t sure what Allison wanted him to cook, and he wanted more time to prepare for anything. The week had passed quickly, despite things being awkward between him and Scott. He hadn’t bothered asking the true alpha if he would show up for the meeting, assuming he wouldn’t dare miss it. But now that he was by himself and had time to do nothing but think, he worried. 

Allison entered the loft, beaming as she waved at Stiles. “Hey!” She wandered over to him. “So I had a thought - I couldn’t pick, was my real issue - and I narrowed dinner down to either taco salad, or pizza pot pie.” She looked sheepishly at him, holding the bags in her hands up. “I got everything, no matter what I eventually pick, but I wanted to run it by you first to get an idea of what your stomach’s hungry for.”

“Taco salad.” Stiles nodded. “It’ll be easier and we can just set things out and let everyone pick what they want, to fill their bowl.” He started unpacking the grocery bags. “I’m mostly just looking forward to an easy night of not having to do much of anything, other than letting Peter cuddle me, if that’s something he wants to do.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course he’ll want to.” Allison moved into the kitchen and unpacked the remaining bags she held. “I haven’t even gotten the chance to see the two of you together in a genuine relationship yet, and I know that.” She kept the ingredients out for a taco salad, and then got out a large bowl, as well as a pan in order to cook the meat.

“I know he would want to, if it was just him and me. But with everyone else around, he might feel differently.” Stiles shrugged. He started browning the meat in the pan. “What movie are we watching?” 

Allison looked a little sheepish, but shrugged and said, “The Tigger Movie.” She let out a small laugh. “It felt like something all of us could get behind, you know?”

“It’s perfect.” Stiles grinned. “Besides, I get to punish anyone who makes fun of Pooh Bear.” 

Allison beamed at him. “And this is why we’re long lost siblings. I love Pooh Bear. I feel a lot like Tigger sometimes. And then other times, I feel like Rabbit.”

“I don’t like Rabbit.” Stiles shook his head. “I know he’s important to the group, but he’s always griping about everything.” 

“That’s why I feel like him.” Allison admitted. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m always griping about everything.” She shrugged a shoulder. “And he’s really nice, deep down. Like, _really_ deep down, like - like a piece of chocolate with nougat in the middle.” She giggled.

Stiles laughed. He turned to face Allison, letting the meat cook. “If you marry Malia and I marry Peter, I’d be your father-in-law.” He snorted. 

“That’s a really weird way of telling me you want me to call you Dad.” Allison quipped, her eyes glinting playfully at him.

“Eww.” Stiles shook his head. “Nope, that would be too weird.” 

Allison snorted. “You left the door wide open for me to say it,” she laughed. “But I promise - I will not be calling you anything other than Stiles. Or Alpha. Or my favorite dragon.” She grinned. “I might call you Ebonhorn. Or - what’s his real name? Ebyssian.”

“I look like a cow to you?” Stiles shook his head, then went back to cooking. “Rude.” He called over his shoulder, laughing. 

Allison rolled her eyes, grinning, and crumpled up a napkin, throwing it at him. “Excuse you, he only _masquerades_ as a giant cow. What, did you want me to call you Deathwing? Or Nefarian?”

“No?” Stiles shook his head. “And don’t throw shit at me, you’re going to ruin the food.” He tossed the napkin back at her. 

Allison caught the napkin and stuck her tongue out at him with a smile as the elevator’s gears began to move. She looked toward it when it opened, beaming when Peter stepped out and revealed Malia behind him. She hurried over to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around the other brunette. “Hi!”

“Hey.” Malia hugged Allison, then kissed her. “What are we eating?” 

“Taco salad.” Stiles looked over at Peter, waving a hand at him. “Hey.” 

Peter smiled, moving toward him. He didn’t hesitate as he slid his arm around Stiles and tilted his head to kiss him. “Hello, whelpling.” He murmured, the nickname being expressed with significantly more affection than it had been given previously. “How are you today?”

“I’m good.” Stiles grinned, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “I told Allison to decide on tonight’s dinner and movie. All I have to do is cook and eat.” 

“What a coincidence,” Peter murmured, nuzzling his nose against Stiles’ jaw. “Those are two things I happen to be very good at. Let me help you.”

Stiles closed his eyes, turning his head for another kiss. “I think I can be convinced.” He murmured. 

Peter smiled against his lips, parting his own lips and kissing Stiles deeply as he dragged the younger man’s body closer to his. 

“You’re not going to have sex in front of everyone, are you?” Malia demanded. 

Peter paused in kissing Stiles, before pulling back and looking at his daughter. “If I answer yes, will it make you flee the room and give us peace?”

“Probably.” Malia muttered. “I mean, I can watch tv and ignore you.” 

“Society isn’t okay with public sex.” Stiles remarked, not sure what else he could say. 

“Then why do so many movies have sex scenes?” Malia countered. “And they show them in theaters, where all kinds of people go, to watch them together.” 

Allison giggled, pressing her lips against Malia’s jaw. “It’s for ‘artistic expression.’ And to make some parents uncomfortable, if they took their kids with them to see it. Also, sex scenes make people feel both awkward and aroused. Gets them out of the theater faster.”

“In any case, public sex isn’t happening in any pack meeting.” Stiles blurted, shaking his head. 

“Of course not.” Peter agreed with him. “I only brought it up as an attempt to shoo my offspring away, and it didn’t work.”

“It’s a pack meeting. I’m pack.” Malia grinned, displaying her fangs. “I’m not leaving.” She grabbed a bowl and filled it with tortilla chips, then started piling ingredients on top, as soon as the meat finished browning. “Can I just have all of this?” 

“No.” Stiles laughed. “You can have a little bit of it, though.” 

Allison gazed at Malia fondly, letting out a soft sigh. “Come on, sit down with me. We can get you seconds later, god knows I bought enough meat. All of the wolves in this pack eat like they’re starving to death.” She paid no mind as the elevator began whirring again, more focused on her girlfriend than the other pack members arriving.

Malia sat down with Allison and started eating, pausing after her second bite and eyeing Stiles. “I forgot that you’re supposed to eat before anyone else.” 

“I always thought that rule was sort of stupid.” Stiles shrugged. “Just make sure I at least get some of it, though. Since I’m the one cooking.” 

“This would be the point where I start hoarding food off to the side for you.” Peter murmured, and bestowed another kiss to Stiles’ lips before he moved to make a plate for the younger man and himself.

Scott stepped into the room cautiously, hanging back a little bit at the entrance of the living room as his eyes flicked around the loft.

“Hey, we’re having taco salad.” Stiles called out to Scott. “And watching The Tigger Movie.” 

Scott looked up at him. “Oh - cool.” He blurted, nodding. “That’s awesome.” He wandered closer, picking up a plate and piling chips and salsa and other toppings onto a plate. He looked up at Stiles and gave him a hesitant smile.

Stiles hugged Scott. “Hey.” He murmured quietly. “I’m sorry about the other day.” 

Scott shook his head, reaching his arms out and hugging Stiles back tightly, his plate forgotten. “No, dude, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “Really. I didn’t even think, I just.. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, at least that’s over?” Stiles shrugged. “I know I didn’t make it easy on you, when you were dating Kira. Not exactly same thing, given the circumstances, but yeah.” 

Scott nodded. “Yeah.” He murmured, and then shrugged, too. “I’m just - I’m gonna be supportive. I promise. And… I know if I ever screw up, I know you’ll call me on it.”

“Somebody has to.” Stiles smiled. “Now go eat, Malia’s breaking with tradition today.” 

“Today?” Scott repeated, his lips twitching. He picked up his plate and moved to go sit across from Malia and Allison.

Stiles sat down beside Peter and leaned against him, glancing around at the pack. It seemed like every few months, it just kept increasing in size, and he didn’t think they would ever have trouble again, if it kept up. 

Peter turned his head to brush a kiss against Stiles’ temple before turning to observe the rest of the teens. He was the oldest one there, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually care, not when the reason he could be there was currently leaning against him.

“I can practically hear you.” Stiles teased. “Yates is about a decade older than you, I think. She’ll be here soon.” 

Peter grumbled, tugging Stiles firmly against his side. “If she even side-eyes us once, I’m flinging her out of the window.”

“That’s excessive, Peter, tone it down.” Cora soothed him, patting her uncle’s knee.

Peter grunted at her. “Shush, you.”

“I’ve got this handled.” Stiles told Cora, then turned his head to kiss Peter. 

Peter huffed a laugh against Stiles’ mouth and kissed him back.

Allison looked at Malia. “For future reference, if I’m rambling? Do that.”

Malia nodded. “I have. You do it a lot.” 

“Oh.” Allison blinked, then grinned. “Continue on.”

Malia started to help herself to seconds, pouting when Stiles smacked her hands. “Ow.” 

“Yates isn’t here and she hasn’t had any yet, so we’re waiting until she arrives.” Stiles murmured. He frowned at the door, then got up to open it, as though that would magically bring their newest beta to the loft. 

“What do we do if she doesn’t show up?” Scott asked softly, frowning at the door as well.

“Unfortunately, we aren’t allowed to ostracize her.” Peter muttered. “We have to educate her on why participating with the pack is important and beneficial to herself and to us.”

“She’ll have to wash the dishes, when she does show up.” Stiles murmured. “And if she doesn’t show up, we’re all quitting the diner.” 

“How much time do we give her?” Allison asked Stiles, glancing at him.

“Five more min-” Stiles stopped talking when he heard the elevator whirr to life. “Make a plate for her and put the rest of the food in the fridge.” 

Erica snorted, but rose from her seat and did as he said. She set the plate down on the table and then covered it lightly with a napkin before she gathered the rest of the food and put it in the refrigerator. When that was done, she settled back into her own seat, wrapping her arm around Boyd and kicking her legs over his. 

Stiles opened the door for the teacher. “You’re late.” He frowned at her. “You’re eating the plate we made for you and you’re doing the dishes. Then you can leave.” 

“I didn’t know that being late wasn’t allowed.” Yates protested. 

“I told you more than once that being here on time was a good idea.” Stiles pointed to the table, where Marion’s plate was. “Next week, you won’t be late.” 

“Next week, I won’t be _here_.” Marion grumbled, going still when Stiles lifted a hand, gesturing for her not to move. 

“If you don’t want to be here next week, you can leave right now.” Stiles’ tone was firm. “And then I’ll make sure everyone at the diner gets a month’s pay and knows not to come back. And Greta would back me up on that. She wouldn’t put up with bullshit, either. I don’t know why you think that me being younger than you gives you some sort of privilege. Now go eat, wash the dishes, and get out.” 

Marion looked around the room, hoping to see a sympathetic expression anywhere in the pack. 

Allison folded her arms across her chest and stared back at the other woman, her expression blank. 

Scott glanced up at her briefly, and then shook his head, recalling how quickly he’d learned his lesson to be on time. 

Erica brandished a hand at the plate, raising her eyebrows. “Do what he says. You agreed to be a part of the pack, that means you agreed to do what’s expected of you. You’re not better than us just because you’re older than us, and you’re not better than him,” she gestured at Stiles, “for whatever reason you seem to think you are. He didn’t have to agree to help you out with the diner, he didn’t have to do half of the stuff he’s done for you. He is, because he’s Stiles, and he’s amazing, and he cares a whole hell of a lot, even when I think the person he’s being kind to doesn’t deserve it.” She gave Marion a pointed look.

There was silence, and then Peter spoke up. “You’ve made an agreement with Stiles.” He began quietly. “One that I think was more than fair. You have had ample opportunity to discuss things with him, but you’ve chosen not to. I don’t know if you’re being deliberately antagonistic to him because you’re new to the pack, or… any other reasons, but I assure you that there is no need to be.” He glanced at his younger boyfriend. “Having him on your side is the best move you could possibly make for yourself,” he offered eventually, his eyes locked on Stiles’. “I took that option and I’m glad that I did. I would recommend it for anyone else, not just for you.”

“I’m still trying to adjust to how a pack works.” Marion admitted. She sat down quietly and started eating, keeping her eyes averted from everyone else.

“And that’s fine.” Peter replied. “But - think of this as a classroom situation. If there was something that your students didn’t understand, would you tolerate them plundering ahead and attempting to throw everything into chaos, or would you expect them to approach you, ask questions, and get clarification?” He raised his chin, giving her an unexpectedly kind look. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Marion looked up, nodding to Peter. “You don’t remember me, do you?” 

Peter paused, looking at her with a frown. “Have I met you before this year?”

“That answers that question.” Cora snorted. “Ow!”

“Shh!” Isaac murmured, withdrawing the elbow that he’d jabbed her with.

“Idiots.” Stiles muttered, trying not to laugh. 

“I was friends with Corinne.” Marion explained to Peter, ignoring the others. “I was a senior when you were a sophomore.” 

The only indication that Peter gave that he was shocked was the tightening of his arm around Stiles. “Marion. Right, yes, of course.”

Stiles put his hand over Peter’s, deciding that now was definitely not the time to ask who Corinne was. “Memory lane can wait.” He got up, going over to the fridge to get out the food, so that everyone else could have seconds. He made a point of helping serve everyone, pointedly ignoring Marion before he put the leftovers back into the fridge. 

Peter cleared his throat and distractedly dropped a kiss on Stiles’ forehead as he finished up his food, and then placed his plate in the sink. He sat back down, his gaze flicking toward Malia a few times when he knew his daughter wasn’t looking.

Stiles glanced from Peter to Malia a couple of times, then realized why Peter seemed nervous. “I’m going to make popcorn.” He said abruptly, getting up and looking through the cabinets for the olive oil he had blended with vanilla beans. He poured some into a pan, then added some popcorn seeds and put the lid on the pan, shaking the pan over the burner after he turned it on. Cooking kept him from saying or doing something stupid. 

Allison noticed the looks, too, and blinked, her brows drawing together in confusion before her eyes widened slightly as she looked after Stiles. She sat up and gave Malia a soft kiss, nodding toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go help him.” She murmured, heading into the kitchen. She brought her phone with her and typed out a simple message to show him when she sidled up to his side, well aware of the werewolf ears in the room. ‘You caught it, too?’

Stiles nodded. He took her phone, erasing her message and writing his own. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone did. I don’t know who Corinne is, but Peter obviously does.’

‘Do you think… I mean, he kept looking at Mal.’ Allison typed out, looking worried. ‘You don’t think…’

‘I think that’s the only reason he’d be like that. He probably thought I would demand answers. I’m going to, but not in front of everybody.’ Stiles watched the popcorn in the pan, then got a bowl out of the cabinet when the popcorn started to pop. 

Allison nodded, looking thoughtful. She peered into the living room over her shoulder, and then looked back at Stiles before down at her phone. ‘I’ll admit that I’m curious, and I’d like to know, but I don’t know if Mal does. So unless she brings it up, or Peter says something to her, I’m going to keep my nose out of it.’ She squeezed his arm gently, and then added, ‘But if you need someone to talk to that isn’t Peter, you know I’ll be here.’

‘I appreciate that.’ Stiles nodded to Allison, even though he knew he wouldn’t tell her anything without Peter saying it was okay, first. Malia had never expressed an interest in her mom, and Stiles figured that she had her reasons. He didn’t necessarily understand those reasons, but he was trying to be more considerate of everyone instead of yelling at them for things that had happened to him. 

Allison gave him a small smile and bobbed her head. ‘I hope he’ll be alright.’ She added. ‘But… he’s got you, so I kinda think he will be.’

Stiles grinned, mouthing ‘thank you’ to her. He emptied the popcorn into the bowl, then started making more. “Do you want vanilla popcorn, or some other flavor?” 

Allison’s eyes brightened. ‘No, vanilla popcorn sounds amazing.” She blurted. “Thank you.”

“Okay.” Stiles smiled. “I’ve been thinking about mixing soda and olive oil, just to see what it would do.” He shrugged. “Like Dr. Pepper, maybe.” 

Allison looked curious. “I’d be interested. Consider me your guinea pig.” She grinned.

“We’ll have to come back here tomorrow, then.” Stiles murmured. “I’ll make some in a few minutes and we’ll see how it is, after it’s been sitting for a little while.”

Allison nodded, smiling. “Cool. It’s a plan.”

After he made a few more batches of the vanilla popcorn, Stiles rinsed out the pan and poured a little sunflower seed oil into it, adding popcorn again and letting it pop. When it was done, he turned toward Allison. “Go ahead and take the bowls out to everyone else? This one is for me and Peter.” He mixed cinnamon and cocoa powder together, then shook it over the last bowl of popcorn. He carried it out to the living room, nodding to Yates. “Dishes.” He told her, sitting down on the couch. 

Marion smiled ruefully and went into the kitchen. 

Peter sat back in his seat, looking up at Stiles with his nostrils flaring in interest. “That’s new.” He murmured, leaning into Stiles’ space to peer at the bowl. He didn’t notice as Allison passed around the other bowls of distinctly not-the-same popcorn.

“I’ve been making different flavored oils and stuff.” Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t use one of them on this, but I could find a way to work around it. I’m making some other stuff after the movie.” 

Peter looked intrigued. “Would you mind if I helped?”

“I’d love it if you helped me.” Stiles smiled. “I feel like we’re going to be one of those weird couples. Not that we aren’t already, but instead of ‘it’s your turn to cook,’ it’ll be more like, ‘it’s my turn to cook.’” He laughed. 

A soft, pleased expression crossed Peter’s face, and he smiled. “I’d like that.” He murmured. “I’d enjoy it a lot.”

Stiles barely noticed the movie, once again, as he leaned against Peter. After a few minutes, he gave up on pretending like the tv even made a difference, closing his eyes and just listening to the sounds around him. 

Peter exhaled, pressing his lips softly to Stiles’ hairline and nuzzling him gently.

Stiles heard water draining in the kitchen sink, then Marion quietly saying goodbye before she left. He waited a few more minutes, then sat up and gave Scott a quizzical look, wondering if the beta was far enough away. 

Scott listened silently, and after more than a minute passed, he nodded at Stiles, straightening.

“We need to do more, to include her, outside of pack meetings.” Stiles suggested. “Give her a reason to look forward to being here. Treat her like a friend, not a servant or a teacher, although she is that, so don’t treat her like crap in front of people or act like you’re suddenly her newest best friend. Just... offer to help her carry shit or say hi to her if you’re not in a hurry to get to class.” 

“Even if we hardly see her?” Erica furrowed her brows. “I mean - really, I don’t cross paths with her at all. How do I contribute?” She asked Stiles curiously. There was no derision in her voice, just uncertainty.

“Before first period, before lunch, after school.” Stiles murmured. “Or, if all of that fails next week, try inviting her to do something next weekend, during the pack meeting? It doesn’t have to be anything major, just ask her if she’s been somewhere or other and see what she has to say about it. Include her in conversations.” 

Erica nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Okay.” She murmured.

Stiles grinned. “Okay.” He repeated, laughing. “I’m making more flavored olive oil, and then I’m leaving. I wanted to watch this, but I think I’m okay.” He grimaced at the word, since he had used it often enough in the past few minutes. “I’m good.” 

“Aww.” Allison’s lower lip jutted out as she pouted at him. “And I suppose you’re going to take Peter with you, aren’t you?” There was disappointment in her voice, even as it sounded playful.

Peter, for his part, looked vaguely startled at her reaction. He stared at her for a moment, then looked at his daughter before looking at Stiles. I… well, we meet every week.” He told her eventually. “It’s not as though I won’t be here.”

Stiles smiled. “I’m just going into the kitchen. You can stay here, if you want to.” He told Peter. “You’ll see me all weekend, anyway.” 

“Very true.” Peter replied, looking at him fondly. “But I believe I’ll join you all the same.” He stood. “Besides - Allison and Malia can visit my apartment at any time they like.” He added pointedly, raising his eyebrows at the girls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Malia waved a hand at her dad, dismissing him as she stared at the tv. She glanced at Allison a few seconds later. “So, Tigger just runs around and messes up everything, and everybody’s fine with that?” 

Allison looked amused. “Well, everyone but Rabbit.” She replied. “And they aren’t… okay with it, exactly, but they’re still willing to forgive him.”

Stiles smiled to himself as he went into the kitchen, listening to Malia as he prepared small bottles for different olive oil mixtures. 

“Am I like Tigger?” Malia demanded. 

Allison actually thought about it. “No. I don’t see you as Tigger at all, actually.” Her lips twitched as she glanced toward Liam. “Liam might be.” She teased. “Since he’s still bumbling his way through werewolf-iness.”

“Hey!” Liam protested. “I haven’t wrecked anything for at least three days!”

“That just means you’re overdue, cutie.” Erica laughed.

Allison shook her head, turning back to Malia. “I kinda see you as Roo.”

“I guess.” Malia muttered. “Better Roo than Rabbit.” 

Stiles laughed to himself, glancing over at Peter. 

Peter glanced back at Stiles, bewildered. “What? Does that make me Kanga?”

“Lydia is Kanga.” Stiles grinned. “Which is awkward, and let’s move on. You’re more like Owl.” 

“So what you’re saying is that you want to hear me speak with an accent,” Peter teased, his lips twitching as he outright ignored the comment about Lydia.

“I’m saying you have a lot of stories and sometimes I have to remind you to get to the point.” Stiles smirked. “And you’re old.” 

“Hasn’t bothered _you_ yet.” Peter snorted. 

Stiles paused, then looked at Peter again. “It’s not that it bothers me.” He shook his head. “But yeah, it’s kind of a concern. I’ve already thought about all of it. You’re eighteen years older than me. When I’m done with college, I’ll be twenty-two and you’ll be forty. I mean, that’s not exactly as bad as some people have it. But I’ll be doing the settling down thing and you’ll be in midlife crisis mode, probably?” 

“Doubt it.” Peter replied, leaning back. “Unless my current state of mind counts as a midlife crisis?” He thought silently for a moment, his fingers stroking Stiles’ back. “Sometimes it’s difficult to remember that it’s been seven years since the fire, since I was hospitalized. I was twenty-eight. Sometimes I feel like I’m in stasis.”

“I’ve heard of stuff like that.” Stiles murmured, nodding. “Traumatic events kind of lock a person into the age they were, when it happened. So then, chronologically, Derek and Lydia are about the same age, since they were both sixteen when... things happened to them.” 

Peter coughed, but didn’t say anything, shooting an awkward glance at the living room.

“Sorry.” Stiles frowned. 

“No, it’s not…” Peter shook his head, sighing. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. I, on the other hand… have quite a lot to apologize for, and dozens of people to apologize to. I’m just not certain it’ll be received very well. By any of them.” He grimaced. “Particularly since I’m not entirely sorry I did it.”

“You’ve already tried to make up for it.” Stiles turned toward Peter, putting his arms around him. “And you were a huge part of us surviving the maze. Even if you haven’t used the words, they know. And they also know that sometimes, you don’t have much of a choice. Even Scott understands that now.” He blinked, turning his head. “Sorry, Scott. But yeah, it’s still true.” 

Peter sighed softly, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and furrowing his brows together. “I suppose you’re right.” He said softly, dropping his chin to Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles smiled, rubbing Peter’s back. “I found about a dozen places that you and Malia could move into, in New York. I have the printouts of listings in my Jeep, and you’ll get to take a look at them when we’re done here. At your apartment. Unless you had other plans?” 

“Not at all.” Peter murmured, smiling. “As a matter of fact, that sounds pretty perfect. We can narrow the choices down, and then show Malia what we come up with, whenever she decides to come home for a change.”

“Your apartment smells like an old man!” Malia yelled from the living room. 

“You smell like a porno set!” Peter snapped back before turning to look at Stiles with a shrug. “It’d still be nice to see her using her damn bedroom once in a while.”

“Oh my god, you’re both twelve.” Stiles snorted, shaking his head. “I think you need a time-out or something.” 

Peter playfully whacked his palm against Stiles’ backside. “You can punish me when we get home.”

Stiles stared at Peter. “I’m going to.” He said finally. 

“Shut up in there!” Malia called out. 

Peter’s lips twitched, and he studied Stiles. “Would you like to go?” He asked quietly.

“Let me just finish this up, and then yes.” Stiles murmured. He added minced garlic cloves to one bottle of oil, cinnamon sticks to another, and sealed them both before he put them away in the cabinet. 

Peter wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders before leading him out of the kitchen. “We’re going to head out.” He murmured. 

“Good!” Mason called out, his eyes glued to the tv. “See you Monday, Stiles.” 

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, bye.” He waved a hand, then shrugged and went into the hallway. 

Peter squeezed Malia’s shoulder gently as he passed. “Bye, sweetheart.” He murmured, giving Allison a small smile before nodding at the rest of them and following Stiles out to the hallway. 

Stiles was quiet as they took the elevator down to the ground floor. He told himself to be patient as he went to his Jeep and got in. A few minutes later, when they were halfway to Peter’s apartment, he finally spoke. “Were you serious, or was that just one more way to mess with me?” 

“How frequently have I ever been anything less than truthful with you?” Peter paused. “When I wasn’t deliberately keeping secrets, I mean.” He looked at Stiles. “I’m a lot of things, Stiles. Mostly terrible things that I deserve to be called for most of the terrible things I’ve ever done over the years. But… please believe me when I say that the last thing I want to do, where you’re concerned, is mess with you.”

“I didn’t mean it like you were being malicious.” Stiles protested. “I was talking more like last week, when you said your room was off-limits, just because.” 

Peter hummed. “I said that because in all honesty, there was no telling what I would do if you were in my room. You physically, or just your scent… I’m not entirely sure I would have had enough control to keep myself from knocking you into the bed and having my way with you.” He smiled faintly. “I figured that would’ve been moving a bit too fast.”

“And you’re actually into the whole... me punishing you thing?” Stiles asked carefully. “Because that’s definitely something we should talk about. We should talk about all of the things that interest us.” 

“I’m into just about everything you can think of.” Peter admitted. “But I’m only interested in doing what you’re comfortable with. I have no intention of pushing what I want on you. And I trust you.”

“I trust you, too.” Stiles smiled. “Which is why I’m telling you that you wouldn’t be forcing me into anything I don’t want to do. Some stuff, I won’t even know if I like it unless I try it. Simple enough, as a concept. Dr. Seuss wrote a whole book about it.” 

Peter snorted out a laugh. “Fair enough.” He murmured. “Then let’s figure out our priorities for the moment. We need to pick out an apartment, decide what we’re willing to do with each other, and what else?”

“Sleep.” Stiles laughed. “After probably testing out a couple of things.” He parked the Jeep and got out, going around to the back to grab his backpack. He had the papers in a binder, and a change of clothes, since his experience of coming home in the same clothes he’d worn to Greta’s funeral made him feel awkward.

Peter slipped out of the passenger seat and made his way around the Jeep toward Stiles, waiting patiently for the younger man. 

Stiles closed the door and held his free hand out to Peter, the other one gripping the straps of his backpack. “Honestly, as much as I’m glad that Allison picked something light-hearted, I’m a little unnerved by The Tigger Movie. Or anything else by A. A. Milne.” He knew it was an abrupt subject change, but he figured Peter had to be used to it by now. “Maybe it’s that it hits a little too close to home, I don’t know. Christopher Robin Milne was an actual person, and he hated Winnie the Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood. All of it. Because his dad didn’t spend time with him, he just wrote stories about him, instead. And I guess...” He shrugged. “I know my dad’s there for me when I need him, but he’s busy keeping the town safe for me to live in, it’s like he’s missed out on me living in it.” He grimaced. “And now that I’ve started in on my issues, I’m shutting up. Uh, mostly. Because I want to know who Corinne is, to you. Malia’s mom, right?” 

Peter was silent, a deep frown crossing his face before he answered. “Yes. She’s Malia’s mother.” He confirmed. 

“You just seemed as surprised as the rest of us.” Stiles said gently. “But you knew she was your daughter.” 

“Malia smells like family.” Peter murmured. “She smells like me. And she looks like Cora, and Laura. And given that I had two sisters, only one of whom actually had children… logical conclusion was that she was mine. But… until Yates mentioned Corinne, I didn’t… she wasn’t…” he shook his head, a frustrated look on his face. “I’d forgotten her. Or… rather, I thought she was someone else.”

Stiles thought back to the night that Peter had told him about Derek’s first girlfriend, and how Derek had never mentioned her at all, despite everything else they talked about. “Paige.” He glanced at Peter. “You thought she was someone else. Or sort of, at least.” 

Peter nodded, grimacing. “Which means… everything I told you was true. From a certain angle. Everything was true except for the person it happened to.”

“And the fact that she survived it.” Stiles nodded back. He let go of his backpack and hugged Peter. “And you forgot because you were probably forced to forget. So maybe tonight, we take it easy on anything else and just take some time to talk through this?” 

“Yes.” Peter said quietly, nodding. “I think that would be best.”

Stiles kept an arm around Peter, picking up his backpack as he guided his boyfriend into the building. Once they were in the apartment, he tossed his backpack down beside the couch and went into the kitchen to make tea. While he waited for the water to boil, he remembered how, a year earlier, he had been the one in need of tea to deal with a difficult situation. He walked out of the kitchen, the tea forgotten as he approached Peter, licking his lower lip. “I don’t care about whether or not the timing on this is good, or right, or whatever else might stop me from saying it.” He murmured. “I love you.” 

Peter looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “You do?” He said, his brows drawing together. He studied the younger man, looking completely bewildered, and then blurted out, “Why?”

Stiles laughed, startled. “Well, it’s not for moments like this one.” He muttered. “I know we haven’t been together very long, but I don’t care about that, anyway. Despite what you think about yourself, I think you’re a great person. You’ve done the wrong thing a few times, but it was for the right reason, and I’m never going to have the higher ground, in that regard. I care about what happens to you. I don’t know if love is somehow an entirely different level of feeling, but it seems close enough. I don’t know if you feel that way about me and it’s okay, if you don’t. We’re not discussing me tonight, we’re talking about you and what you need or want, or don’t need or don’t want. But this is just something I felt like I wanted to say.” 

Peter swallowed roughly, and then exhaled, pulling Stiles closer for a kiss. “Thank you.” He murmured. “I don’t know that I can say it myself, but I do care about you quite a bit, and I’m very concerned about what happens to you.” 

Stiles smiled. “No rush.” He went back into the kitchen to finish the tea. 

Peter sat down and sighed quietly. He leaned back, looking thoughtful. He could feel memories trying to surface from when he was younger, and it was all he could do to force them back - he’d already felt turmoil just from what he’d recalled, he couldn’t bring himself to deal with more. Not on his own, anyway. 

Stiles set tea down in front of Peter, on the coffee table. “What do you need?”

“Several years of hardcore therapy?” Peter relied, snorting at himself. “And you. Mostly you.”

Stiles smiled softly as he sat down beside Peter, putting an arm around him. “Okay, talk.”

There was dead silence for several minutes before Peter could bring himself to speak. He let out a heavy sigh, then, gazing at Stiles. “I was - Corinne and I both were - seniors when Malia was born. At least, I assume we were because that was definitely when Corinne got pregnant. I was… idealistic. I was attracted to her, and then… I was more than attracted to her. I told her about myself and my family - I didn’t discuss it with my sister before I did, and… you have to understand that Talia was a good ten years older than me - twenty-eight to my eighteen, and she’d already had Laura, Derek, and was nearly about to burst with Cora. She’d been an Alpha for years, and I’d been her perfect little brother, the perfect enforcer, the perfect beta. I always came to her with everything - except Corinne. I told Corinne about being a werewolf, and I knew that if I went to Talia with my desire for Corinne to become a beta as well, I would be denied. They couldn’t stand each other, but more than that, Corinne disrespected my sister constantly - I just didn’t see it. So… Corinne and I looked for another Alpha that would give her the bite, and… we stumbled on Ennis.” He fell silent, looking uncomfortable. “I have a lot of regrets. Involving Ennis in this, allowing him anywhere near Corinne, anywhere near my family, was a mistake. Letting Corinne be bitten…” he scoffed. “‘Let.’ Like I could have stopped her at that point. But I never should have encouraged it.” He looked down. “I got her pregnant not long after. I was thrilled - I wanted so badly to be a father, I didn’t pay attention to what went on around me, so I didn’t see the way Corinne acted around Talia. I didn’t see the way she reacted every time I talked about Malia, and our plans, and what we’d do together. Apparently, I’d ruined her plans to be famous. She wanted to go to Juilliard, she wanted to play shows around the world, she wanted to be known for the way she played, and having a child with me wasn’t in the cards for her.” He looked at Stiles. “Malia was born in September of nineteen-ninety-five, and immediately showed traits of being a shifter. Her eyes glowed blue, her nails shifted to claws, she had her first fangs before a tooth ever came. And Corinne hated her. You could see it every time she looked at my daughter that she wanted to rip Malia apart. She nearly did, and that was the last straw for Talia. She didn’t care if Corinne attacked her, but attacking her niece, an infant, an innocent child? Corinne was lucky Talia didn’t gut her and dump her remains in Death Valley. She took our memories - she had to have. If Corinne remembered Malia, she’d have been back many times before now to try to kill her again. Unless she’s dead. I really hope she’s dead.”

“So all the stuff you thought was about Paige was actually Corinne.” Stiles murmured, even though he was already certain of that being a fact. “And Yates knows pretty much all of it. But even if she did something stupid and called Corinne to tell her, I wouldn’t let Malia’s biological mother anywhere near her. You know that. So your fear can’t be that, it has to be something else...” He studied Peter, thinking. “And if she came after me, I’d just set her on fire. Did you think I was going to freak out and leave or - or whatever? Because I actually did pay attention in health class. I know where babies come from. You’re not Zeus.” 

“Dreamkiller.” Peter muttered. “No… Yates, as far as I knew, was not a werewolf back then. The only thing I can think of is that she remained in communication with Corinne… or Corinne put her in contact with Ennis.” He looked at Stiles. “Ennis, as I’m sure you can recall, was not the sanest, kindest Alpha. His betas generally weren’t, either. The ones he didn’t kill, anyway.”

“Right.” Stiles frowned. “I wasn’t saying anything about that, though.” He waved a hand in front of Peter’s face. “Focus on me, all right? What’s actually bothering you, seriously? Ennis is dead, and Deucalion honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck about what happened with his former co-alpha’s former beta’s daughter. Otherwise, he’d have said something when he was here.” 

Peter stared at Stiles, looking bewildered. “I don’t know.” He said quietly, a confused expression on his face. “I think… I think I _was_ afraid you’d walk away. I’m thirty-five with a seventeen year old daughter and more baggage than a carousel at an airport. And my ex, the mother of my child, is a psychopathic murderer all because she didn’t get to play the fucking cello professionally, and blamed our infant daughter for everything she lost.” He frowned. “I’m not sure why Corinne being a murderer bothers me more than being a murderer myself.”

“Because you have limits that she doesn’t.” Stiles pulled Peter closer to him and kissed his cheek. “I’m not leaving you. I think it might even be something you never fully believe, but I don’t blame you for that. I have a hard time with - okay.” He bit his lip. “I’ve had trouble getting the idea out of my head that you might actually not be the one person in the world meant for me, since I was specific about how I wouldn’t meet that person until all of this other shit happened, and I’d already met you, before I ever did that spell in the first place. Derek told me to just ask you a few things, but I don’t want to, because maybe I’m right to be doubtful, and I don’t want to know. But even if it turned out that someone else was that person, and it isn’t you? I’m still not going anywhere.” 

Peter pressed his cheek against Stiles’ with a soft sigh. It bothered him a bit that nothing with their relationship had gone along with Stiles’ list, but losing Stiles - and how had he gotten so attached to the younger man so fast? - bothered him much more. “I’m not going anywhere, either.” He murmured into Stiles’ ear. “I never will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed it, there's a major detail that Peter reveals here. We await your comments.


	22. The Engagement

Stiles had been preparing for this moment for a year. Since Danny and Lydia had graduated from high school and he knew he had to make plans of his own, he had started carefully sorting his bedroom into things that were staying and things that he was bringing with him, to New York. He was bringing his laptop and all of his clothes. He had already made arrangements to have a bed delivered to the apartment he would be sharing with Kira. His suitcase was in the Jeep, and he smiled wistfully at it before he took the elevator to the loft. The school year had passed so quickly, it felt surreal, sometimes. And now he was about to attend the last pack meeting where everyone would be in one place, until Thanksgiving. 

Malia was waiting impatiently for Stiles in the hallway, just outside her cousin’s apartment. “Hurry up, damn it. I’m hungry and nobody would let me have any food until you got here. You’re late, so you get to wash the dishes.” 

Stiles laughed, hugging Malia. “One of these days, I’m going to be your actual stepdad, and then you can’t pull this crap with me, or I’ll send you to your room.” He opened the door, ushering Malia into the apartment ahead of him. “Hey!” He called out, holding his arms out for a hug. 

“Stiles!” Erica blurted, barreling through the apartment and throwing herself at him. She didn’t pay attention when Liam slammed into them from the other side, or when Cora threw herself over all three of them, but she definitely let out a shriek of surprise when Isaac and Scott took all of them down when they joined the pile. “I _hate_ you two!” She grumbled at them, snuggling against Stiles with a pout. 

Stiles grinned. “I’m enjoying this because it’s not going to happen again for me for months.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay, everybody. Get off of me. It’s not like you’re never going to see me again.” 

Everyone slowly got up except for Erica. She stayed where she was, clinging tightly to Stiles. “Uh-uh.” She whined. “Not gonna let go. I don’t wanna.” She swallowed hard, looking up at Stiles pathetically. 

“If you start crying, I’ll start crying.” Stiles muttered. “I’ll probably end up doing a video conference with you guys at least three times a week. The only person I’m going to see every day, in person, is Kira. It’s probably going to suck.” 

“Is there a way out of this devil’s contract with her dad?” Liam asked him, squinting. “Because it kind of sucks that you should end up living with her and stuck with her all the time.”

“Not if I want to be able to have cheap rent in a city known for things being expensive, and have a full scholarship to Columbia.” Stiles shook his head. He had already thought about what it would be like to just live with Peter and not have to worry about money at all, but he didn’t want to live that way, either. 

Liam grimaced, and then looked at Mason. “We should probably start looking at living arrangements for when we graduate, too.” He murmured. “Corey, too. And maybe Tracey? I figure Hayden’s going to be living with Scott.”

Scott grinned. “As soon as she graduates.” He nodded. 

“I figured that if you guys went to New York, you could just come stay in one of the places we’ll already have. Or in Boston, same thing.” Stiles smiled. “So you don’t have to really find a place, you’ll already have one. And if you stayed here and did online classes for awhile, there’s this place.” He lifted one arm, gesturing around the loft, before he sat up, pulling Erica with him. 

“Awesome.” Liam beamed at Stiles. “I didn’t just wanna assume because I didn’t want to be, like, a house crasher or something, you know? You’re the best, Stiles.”

“Yes, he is.” Erica agreed, sulking and stubbornly keeping her arms around him.

“You do realize you’re going to have to let him go at some point, right?” Allison pointed out, stepping into the room and looking amused. 

“Yes, but ‘at some point’ isn’t now, and I’m hanging on for dear life, damn it.” Erica replied mulishly. 

“Well, if you don’t let go, you won’t get dinner.” Lydia smiled, walking over and holding her hand out to Stiles. “Get up, we’re starving and I think Malia might start eating other people in here if we don’t feed her soon.” 

Stiles took Lydia’s hand, keeping his arm around Erica as he got to his feet, bringing her to a standing position with him. 

Erica didn’t fight against it, though she didn’t stop pouting. “Fair point.” She admitted. “Not that I have to like it.” She took a demonstrative step back from Stiles, unhappily letting go, only to squawk in protest when Allison zipped past her and snuggled under Stiles’ arm in her place. “What the fuck was that?” She blurted. “You still get to see him! You’ll be living in the same city as him! You’ll be living under the same roof as his boyfriend!”

Allison shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “I didn’t get to hug him when he came in.”

Stiles laughed, hugging Allison. “I’m guessing that Yates and Peter did the cooking, today?” 

Allison hugged him back, nodding. “Peter got creative and super, super fancy. And by that, I mean he ordered Blue Apron so he wouldn’t have to drive to that stupid expensive supermarket in Redding.”

“Excuse me.” Peter replied, peering out of the kitchen at her with a frown. “It was Hello Fresh. And I was curious about it.”

Stiles grinned, letting go of Allison and walking over to Peter, kissing him. “I told you that Omaha Steaks was probably cheaper.” He teased. 

“But bad quality.” Yates called out from the kitchen. “And you know better.” 

Peter grinned and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ mouth. “Between you and me, I figured the steaks would end up disappearing without anyone appreciating them the way they should, anyway. Hence the Hello Fresh boxes currently littering the kitchen floor.”

“Well, I have to do the dishes.” Stiles laughed. “So I guess I’ll also take out the trash.” 

“Only if you really want to.” Peter’s lips twitched up. “Otherwise, I can take care of it.”

“You’re going to be doing a lot of that when we’re in New York, next week.” Stiles grinned. “Cleaning up and all of that other stuff.” 

“Can you shut up?!” Malia yelled. 

“We can.” Peter nodded before smirking. “I mean, we won’t, but we certainly are capable of it.” He told his daughter. 

“I’m starving.” Malia sighed, sitting down on the couch. 

“Anyway...” Stiles kissed Peter again. “We’re leaving tomorrow. My suitcase is in my Jeep. I have one more thing to do, right after dinner, and then we can go.”

Peter’s arm slid around Stiles’ waist and he squeezed gently, nodding before he kissed him back. “Of course.” He murmured. He turned to smile at Malia. “And you. Come on, love, you’ve waited long enough.” He gestured at her, leading Stiles into the kitchen. “Grab a plate. No one needs to be served, Marion and I have already served everything that should be served onto them.”

About half an hour later, Stiles wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. “Mason, come with me.” 

The younger teen looked confused, but he followed Stiles out to the parking lot, watching the alpha take a suitcase and carry-on out of the back. “Okay? You need me to carry something?”

“Yeah. These.” Stiles tossed the keys to Mason. 

Mason caught the key ring, staring in shock. “Wait, seriously?!”

“The Jeep is yours to use while I’m not in town.” Stiles smiled. “And there’s a key to the loft. Don’t have any raves, or Derek will flip tables and shit. It’s not pretty.” He glanced at the Jeep, resting a hand on it. “You need a few minutes?”

“Please.” Mason nodded. 

Stiles smiled. “Don’t take too long, we’re watching Can’t Hardly Wait and eating cheesecake.” He went back into the building and up to the loft. 

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll ‘flip tables and shit’?” He brought his hands up into air-quotes. “You used my home. For a party. I think I was entitled to flip anything I wanted.”

Scott grinned sheepishly, but there was no sign of apology on his face. “Heh, yeah, sorry.” He said anyway, glancing at Stiles with his lips twitching. 

“It wasn’t even our idea.” Stiles protested. 

“Whose was it?” Derek frowned. 

“Tweedles.” Stiles shrugged. “Either Dum or Dee, I don’t know which one.”

“Tweedle Aiden.” Lydia laughed softly. “To try to prove he could think of other people. Namely, his brother and Danny.”

Derek glanced at Lydia, then dropped his hand from the table to wrap around hers, lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles gently. 

“Can we tell them now?” Lydia smiled at Derek. “I have too many plans to make and I’m tired of waiting.”

Derek’s lips turned up at the corners, and he nodded. “We can tell them now,” he agreed, and turned to look at the rest of the pack, sliding his arm around her shoulders. His ears were slightly red, but the tiny smile on his face was blossoming into a larger one. 

Lydia calmly got a ring out of her purse and put it on her left ring finger. “We’re engaged.”

There was silence, and then Allison squealed loudly, nearly knocking over her chair in the haste to run to Lydia’s side. “Oh my god! How long? When did he propose? Did _you_ propose? It doesn’t matter, oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” She hugged her best friend tightly. “I call maid of honor!” She threw back over her shoulder for the pack’s benefit. 

Erica pushed at Allison, laughing. “Move,  
I want to hug her, too!”

Scott stumbled out of his seat to make his way over to Derek, grinning widely and hugging him, one hand clapping over the older man’s back. “Congratulations, dude.”

Derek looked bemused as he hugged Scott back. “Thanks.” He murmured, and he glanced at Stiles, his lips unable to fight a grin. “‘Dude.’”

Stiles grinned. “This is awesome! Where are you getting married? And when?”

“I was thinking here.” Lydia smiled. “During Thanksgiving weekend. We’ll have all summer to make arrangements, and food won’t be an issue because everyone cooks, anyway. The reception might have to be somewhere other than here, though. We’re getting to be too many in number to keep having parties in this apartment.”

“Bullshit, there’s plenty of room!” Stiles laughed. “That rave had at least two hundred people.”

Derek looked vaguely horrified. “Two hundred and thirty. Some of them found their way up the staircase and the others were outside on the balcony.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t get their scent out of the walls or anything else for weeks.”

“We’ll only invite pack.” Lydia smiled. “And yes, Allison is my maid of honor. But Erica gets to plan my bachelorette party. One more thing - all of you have to try to catch the bouquet. Men, too. No exceptions.”

“What exceptions can we have?” Peter asked, his fingers trailing over Stiles’ shoulder as he looked expectantly at Lydia. “Are you planning a casual affair, or traditional? Did you want a priest, or do you want to forego that and have a handfasting?”

“I want something casual.” Lydia admitted. “My parents spent a lot of money on their wedding and it obviously ended badly. I’m still buying a wedding gown, but I think I’ll avoid Vera Wang in favor of being able to travel next summer, for our honeymoon. Other than that, I don’t actually know what I want.”

Peter glanced at Stiles, and then looked back at Lydia, clearing his throat. “If you’d like, I could perhaps assist you with narrowing down choices. With Allison’s help, of course, since she’s the maid of honor.”

“You helped her pick out that winter formal dress, so I guess you know what you’re doing.” Lydia teased. “Yes, you can help.”

Peter’s mouth opened, and he glanced at Allison before recalling that, yes, actually, he _had_ done that and had forgotten all about it. He huffed out a laugh and let his gaze return to Lydia. “I’ll do my best to make things as simplified and easy as possible for you.” He told her. “After all, it’s not every day that my nephew gets married to his soulmate.”

Lydia hugged Peter, surprising herself with the gesture, but she had gained a lot of respect for him. Stiles being the alpha had done a lot of good, and she could admit to herself that she had been wrong in thinking he would somehow follow Peter down a dark path.

Peter looked startled, staring down at Lydia and blinking rapidly. He could usually pride himself on anticipating the things people would do, but that had come straight out of left field. His hands slowly lowered from where they’d been thrown in the air after Lydia had hugged him, and he gently hugged her, patting his hands lightly against her back. 

Stiles burst out laughing. “You’ve scared him.” He told Lydia. “I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or threaten to smack you, since that’s my boyfriend and everything.” 

“Your one true love.” Lydia smiled, stepping back from Peter and hugging Stiles. “Maybe you two will be next.” 

“No.” Stiles blurted, then made a face when he realized that was awkward. “I mean, I want to, one day. Just not anytime soon. Maybe after I graduate from college.” 

“Nobody is expecting you to get married the day after Derek and I do.” Lydia said gently. “You’ll marry Peter when you marry him, if that’s even something you both want.” 

Peter glanced at Stiles, his eyes warm. “It is.”

“Is that your way of asking me?” Stiles grinned, then looked over at Lydia. “You’re not going to hit us if he says yes, are you?” 

“No, I won’t. As long as you don’t try to get married on the same day that we do, I wouldn’t care if everyone here decided to get engaged right now.” Lydia laughed. “It’s not like this is the first wedding in the pack, anyway.” 

Stiles smiled. Months earlier, his dad had married Scott’s mom. He had a feeling that the house being empty would be seen as a big advantage, not something for their parents to be sad about. 

Peter hugged Stiles to his side and sighed softly against his hair. “I’m not asking you now, for the record.” He murmured. “You won’t see it coming when I ask you.” He deliberately dropped heavy emphasis on ‘when.’

“Good, because I have enough going on, I don’t want to plan a wedding.” Stiles muttered, brushing his lips against Peter’s shoulder. 

“I’m sure you may not have anything to do with a majority of the planning,” Peter assured him teasingly. “Not if the rest of this pack has anything to do with it.”

“My wedding is going to be what I want it to be.” Stiles said firmly. “Lydia’s got her own to plan, and everyone else can sort themselves out when it’s their turn. The only other person allowed to say anything is you, but if you think you’re overruling me on anything, you’re not.” He smiled. “Clear enough?” 

“If I hadn’t already promised that you wouldn’t see it coming, I’d be asking you to marry me now.” Peter snorted, kissing Stiles’ jaw lightly. 

**

Stiles suddenly felt nervous as he turned toward the pack members he was leaving behind, albeit temporarily. “I’ll text all of you as soon as the plane lands, and call a few of you, just so you know it’s actually me.” He remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kind of don’t want to go, now?” He snorted. “But I know I have to.” 

“Yes, you do.” Erica mumbled, scooting toward him to hug him tightly. “I don’t want you to, but I know you do.” She was quiet for a minute and sniffed. “I love you, sugar. Have a safe trip, please.”

“I will.” Stiles nodded. “Don’t cause too much trouble while I’m gone.” He grinned, hugging her back. “When Lydia and Allison leave town, you know that puts you in charge, right?” 

“I promise you won’t come back to a dictatorship. I’ll try to keep the statues of myself to a minimum, too.” Erica promised. 

Stiles laughed. “You’re allowed to have three.” He murmured. “Anything more than that is just overkill.” 

“Damn.” Erica snorted. “I was saving up for five. I was going to try to make an invisible pentagram around town with them in precise locations.”

“Like we need more trouble?” Lydia blurted. “Do not do that, Erica. I mean it.” 

Erica waved a hand at her. “I was kidding. Mostly. But I won’t.”

Stiles smiled as he looked around at the pack again. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and took a step back, then another one. 

“Uh-uh!” Allison blurted, diving for him. “We need hugs too. I mean, we’ll see you sooner than everyone else will, but - dogpile on Stiles!”

Stiles let go of the suitcase just in time to catch Allison with one arm and Scott with the other. “Okay, no more knocking me down until November!” He laughed. “Idiots.” 

“But we’re _your_ idiots!” Scott told him cheerfully, grinning as the rest of the pack shifted closer and joined in on the hug. “We love you, dude.”

“I love you guys, too.” Stiles murmured. “Stay out of trouble. Call me if you need me to come home.” 

“Of course.” Allison murmured.

“Obviously,” Erica added, smiling. 

Stiles reached for his suitcase again, waving a hand at everyone as he walked through the lobby, toward his gate. 

Lydia waited until they couldn’t see Stiles anymore, before she turned toward Allison and Erica. “Come on, we’re going to look at wedding gowns.” She looked at Peter. “And you’re coming with us.” 

Peter blinked, and then looked over his shoulder toward Stiles, wondering how fast he’d have to run exactly in order to catch up. 

Lydia laughed. “You _offered_ to help me!” 

Peter sighed, looking sulky. “Yes, I did.” He agreed. “Alright. Let’s go.” He looked over his shoulder in the direction Stiles had gone in again, before turning back to the three girls and gesturing toward the exit. “After you, ladies.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but she studied Peter as they walked back to her car. “I knew the two of you loved each other, but I didn’t realize how strong that was, for you.” 

“I miss him already.” Peter frowned. “I know I’m going to see him soon, but… it confounds me that I could miss him so much already and he’s barely gone.”

“Because you’re each other’s true love.” Lydia smiled. “Obviously.” 

Peter exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t know that we are.” He admitted. “Stiles said that everything on his list was supposed to happen before he met me. But he already knew me, before he ever even wrote the list. And… some things have happened that matched, but…” He frowned deeply. “There’s still doubt about it. About whether we’re each other’s be-all end-all. I’m not leaving him, and he’s not leaving me, I know that. But there are things he doesn’t want to know the answer to, and there are things I don’t even know if I can answer.”

“Oh.” Lydia frowned. “But I saw the red strings between the two of you. You’re connected.” 

Peter glanced at her. “Yes. Of course.” He murmured, furrowing his brows together uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what to think, really. Knowing what the red string meant gave him some hope, but nothing Stiles had listed had happened the way his younger boyfriend had expected - or had happened at all - and he didn’t know how to reassure Stiles’ discomfort with his spell’s supposed failure.

“I would help if I could.” Lydia continued. “But I went to Salem on Halloween last year to find a witch who could undo the spell I placed on myself. Seeing red strings everywhere was getting annoying.” She got into the car, starting it before she fastened her seatbelt and turned the radio on. 

“It’s understandable.” Peter murmured, shrugging a shoulder. He gave her a brief, small smile. “If it were me, I’d be going mad. I don’t blame you.”

“Do you think you would know what Stiles would want, as far as wedding plans go?” Lydia gave Peter a curious look as she pulled out of her parking space. 

“Not yet. I know he won’t want anything overly busy or extravagant. He’ll likely only want pack, maybe a few people outside of it that he knows and is fond of.” His lips twitched. “Scott will likely be his best man, of course.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Lydia smiled. “Allison is going to be my maid of honor, and I’m thinking of asking Stiles’ father to walk me down the aisle, since my own could care less about my life.” 

“If he doesn’t… Well, I know I’m not your favorite person in the world, but I wouldn’t mind filling in if John can’t for some reason.” Peter offered quietly. 

Lydia took a deep breath. “Would you really?” She asked, speaking just as softly. “I think Derek would really appreciate that, too. Not that I wouldn’t.” 

“Stiles says that I’ve already made up for some of the things I’ve done.” Peter mumbled. “And I believe him - I do. But… there’s a small part of me that says I need to do more. That there are people I very much owe it to. You and Derek, first and foremost. So… yes. I do mean it, I really would, and I would gladly walk you down the aisle. If that’s what you wanted.”

“Well, that’s what I want, then.” Lydia glanced over at him. “But he’s right, you’ve made up for it.” 

Peter gave her a small smile and nodded his head. “Thank you.” He murmured.

“I don’t plan to try on many gowns.” Lydia remarked. “I already know exactly what I want, but the trick is finding it.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Peter asked, glancing down at her. “Are you looking at something modern, or classic?” He squinted at her for a moment. “Lace might actually compliment you very well, but I’d be wary of it solely because of how easily it is to tear.”

“I was looking at a painting in a museum when Derek caught up to me.” Lydia explained. “A Renoir painting, actually, and I thought it would be nice to have a dress like the one in the painting, for the ceremony. I’ve already been looking online and I haven’t found anything. It’s a little maddening.” 

Peter squinted his eyes, thinking. “So you’re looking at a dress similar to the one from… ‘Dance in the City,’ I believe, yes? Hm.” He studied her for a moment. “We may have to visit vintage shops.”

“So Derek told you about it, then?” Lydia grinned. “I never thought I would care about any of this. I assumed that I’d just let someone else handle the details for me, that I’d be too busy. But with Derek, I want to deal with the frustrating things, like...” She pursed her lips, thinking. “Deciding on a veil length or a cake flavor. Finding a photographer.” 

Peter looked amused, huffing out a soft laugh. “I don’t know that I can help with the photographer, and the cake flavor is work suited best for you and Derek, but for the veil length… Well, I do recall from my sister’s wedding that the veil shouldn’t compete with any design on your dress.”

“I think something simple would be better, anyway. I don’t want a long train, and I feel like it would be a bit much to have a long veil and a short train. Or no train.” Lydia laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just a little strange to me that the first time I ever met you, you were attacking me, and now we’re discussing wedding gown fashion.” 

“I’m a very complicated man.” Peter replied dryly. “In your case, I would probably recommend a very short veil. Possibly no train.” He tilted his head at her. “Perhaps a blusher. Or one that only comes to your shoulders. Derek won’t want to compete with fabric when it comes to kissing you at the end of your ceremony, so limiting the amount of time he had to fight your veil away from your face would be in both of your best interests’. And depending on the style of dress you end up with, and what designs may be on it, not having a train may be smarter - but if you decide you want one, the shortest style they have would be your best bet. Your photographer will be taking pictures of you and Derek and your wedding party in your formal wear, and you’ll have to be moving around quite a bit.”

Lydia nodded. “If you don’t mind a little advice?” She parked outside the bridal shop in Beacon Hills, glancing over at Peter. “Halloween is Stiles’ favorite holiday. Which I’m sure you know by now, anyway, but you should make a plan to use that information, somehow.” 

Peter’s lips turned up. “And I probably shall.” He agreed. “Thank you.” He looked over his shoulder into the back of the car at Allison and Erica, who’d been all but ignoring them and talking to each other for the entire ride, then looked back at Lydia. “What about for them? I’m assuming you’ll have at least one bridesmaid to stand with your maid of honor, yes?”

“I think that depends on what Derek’s plans are.” Lydia shrugged. “I could have all of the female pack members involved, but then we’d only have maybe three guests.” She laughed. “I think just having Allison will be enough.” She looked back at Allison and Erica, reconsidering. “Derek will probably have Boyd, and I do feel odd about not having Erica involved.” 

“In that case, we’ll make plans to have Erica fitted for a dress.” Peter tilted his head. “Oh, yes. Right. Do you have colors in mind?”

“Not yet.” Lydia sighed, getting out of the car to try to mask her sudden frustration. “I need to put a little more thought into this.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, and then said, “There’s time. I’ll help you with anything to the absolute best of my ability, but if I’m pushing too hard or frustrating you, you can feel free to tell me.”

“I’m the person that everyone asks for help with decisions.” Lydia muttered, looking at Peter. Irritated, she knocked on the back window to get her friends’ attention. “Let’s just go look for a dress for me, the other stuff can wait.” 

Peter wisely stayed quiet, taking a step back and clearing his throat.

Allison climbed out of the back, looking eager. “Absolutely.” She nodded. “We’re going to find you a dress so completely perfect that Derek is going to openly weep at the altar when he sees you.”

Lydia forced a smile, even though she felt like screaming - and not because death was coming for anyone. 

Allison’s smile faltered, and she shifted awkwardly, stepping to the side so that Erica could get out.

Erica stepped out of the car, took one look at the faces around her, and then headed directly for the door of the shop.

Lydia walked toward the door, but she stopped to look at the window display, tilting her head. It had butterfly and flower vine appliques, and was a gradient pink, under all of the lace. Without another word, she walked into the store and over to a clerk, asking for the display gown in her size. 

“You’re lucky.” The clerk smiled at her widely. “We have only one left. Give me just a moment.” She stepped away and made her way into the back, then returned a few moments later with the dress carefully being carried by the hanger with one hand. “Here you are!”

Lydia carried the dress over to a fitting room, eager to try it on. She called out through the door. “Can someone find me something for my hair, to wear with this? Preferably floral?” 

Allison hurried to the hair accessories and brought back three of the floral hair bands that she found, showing them to Erica and Peter quickly.

Peter, who’d been watching Lydia carefully, glanced down at the bands, grabbing one and tossing it onto another display as a clear rejection to its presence. He dithered for a moment between the remaining two, smiling faintly when he noticed the two girls eyeing the one he had already decided on before he snatched it up and carried it to Lydia’s fitting room. “Unanimous decision between the three of us. This won’t blend in with your hair, but it will set off the color of the gown and highlight any hairstyle you choose. I hope you like it.”

Lydia pushed the curtain aside, holding the skirt up to avoid tripping over it as she walked over to a three-way mirror. She looked at the headband, nodding to Peter. “Thank you.” Her gaze immediately went to her reflection in the mirrors. “Well, it’s going to need to be hemmed, clearly. And I’ll need to find the right shoes. But I think this is my dress.” 

Allison’s eyes softened, her hands going over her mouth. She flapped one of them at her face. “Oh, god, you look incredible.”

Erica was nodding rapidly, and she raised a hand. “I could go find you a pair of shoes to match?”

Lydia nodded back, pressing her lips together when she thought she might start crying. “Okay.” 

Erica smiled at her softly, looking a little hopeful before she spun toward the shoes and started her search.

Peter watched her thoughtfully, his head tilting to the side. “You do look very beautiful.” He said quietly. “But… you also feel like you’re about to fall apart. If you don’t mind me saying.”

“It’s just a typical reaction that happens when women find the right dress.” Lydia murmured. “I’m all right.” She stood still while the clerk marked where the dress needed alterations. “We might actually get most of this done today, after all.” 

“I’m glad.” Peter hummed in agreement, smiling crookedly. “Also, now that you mention it, I do have a vague recollection of my sister collectively losing her shit when she found her wedding dress. I think I ran for the hills.”

Lydia laughed. “I think deciding on a cake might be harder than my gown.” 

“Now, see, I was invited to the cake-tasting.” Peter said teasingly. “Well. In that I invited myself. I remember with absolute certainty that white cake - in design _and_ flavor - is boring. I do know that Derek likes vanilla, but he also will go absolutely nuts for chocolate.” He tilted his head, remembering. “And lemon-raspberry, for some odd reason, I never really understood that.”

“Lemon raspberry would be good, for an autumn wedding cake.” Lydia shook her head, smiling. “Maybe my real problem is that I’m overthinking everything.” 

“It’s possible.” Peter murmured, putting his hands in his pockets as he maneuvered to look directly at her. “You’re taking steps toward a life-altering event. Anyone would be overthinking something like that. _I’m_ overthinking it, and it’s not even my wedding. I do know one thing for sure - any decision you and Derek make is going to be the perfect one for the two of you. You love him, and he loves you. You both want to make each other happy. All of your decisions for this wedding will stem solely from that desire.” He shrugged. “That, and Derek absolutely adores you and everything about you. If he thought he could rope the moon and pull it down for you, he’d do it in an instant.”

“Well, as thrilling as that sounds...” Lydia smiled, shaking her head. When the clerk finished marking details on her order sheet, Lydia went back into the fitting room to change into her clothes. She walked out of the small room a few minutes later, handing her gown off to the clerk and approaching Peter. “I really do appreciate your help with this.” 

“It’s my pleasure.” Peter said sincerely, offering Lydia an arm. “Lead the way, my dear future niece.”

Lydia’s smile widened and she put her hand on Peter’s arm, walking around to look for Allison and Erica. She eyed bridesmaid gowns as she passed them, but she wasn’t concerned about a particular style of dress yet. She wanted to find a good color, first. 

Peter followed sedately, more than content to let Lydia take the lead. He gently tapped her hand when he spotted the other two girls, who both looked frustrated as they spoke with another associate. “Hmm…” He murmured, sighing. “How attached are you to getting your shoes here?” He asked, glancing down at her. 

“I don’t have to.” Lydia shook her head. “I just wanted to find my dress, and hopefully theirs, too. What’s going on over there?” 

“It seems as though the girls are trying to match your dress to the shoes as closely as they can, and the clerk is maintaining that they have nothing close to it in either style, or your size.” Peter replied, frowning. “And she _is_ lying. Erica knows, but she’s never been well-versed in manipulating people into admitting they’re lying - she goes for blunt force, and can’t quite do that here unless she wants to be escorted out with her hands behind her back.”

“I guess I’ll have a lot to work on with her, this summer.” Lydia smiled grimly, walking over to her friends and the employee. “Hi.” 

The clerk smiled tensely at Lydia. “Hello.” She replied, looking relieved to have an excuse not to speak with Allison and Erica anymore. “Excuse me. I have to help a customer that actually _needs_ my help.” She turned her back on the other two, her eyes glittering greedily at the air that Lydia and Peter put off together. “How can I help you?”

Lydia held up her phone, showing off a picture of the dress she had just decided to buy herself. “I believe you’re refusing to help my friends find shoes to go with this, actually?” She shook her head. “And I know you’re not being honest with them. I don’t understand why, and I don’t need your excuses. What you’re going to do is point us in the direction of another employee, or else go get someone for us. We’ll wait.” 

The clerk’s face fell a bit, and then hardened. “Very well. I’ll go get the manager for you. Give me just a moment.” She walked away.

Allison and Erica immediately crowded closer to the other two.

Peter placed a hand over Lydia’s wrist, his gaze distracted as he listened. “She’s hiding the shoes for herself.” He snorted. “She’s telling the manager to tell you the same story. Apparently she bought a similar dress to yours and only those shoes will go with it.”

“Then I guess she’ll just have to order more for herself.” Lydia shrugged. “It’s not like she’s incapable.” 

“Apparently she is.” Erica muttered, glaring after the clerk. 

The manager, a short blonde woman with her hair cut into a chic bob, smiled at Lydia as she walked over, her hands clasped. “Hello, I’m Sylvia. I’m the store manager at this location. I understand that you’re looking for a pair of shoes to go with your wedding dress?”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, I am. My sale on the gown I just tried on hasn’t been finalized yet. I would really hate to leave here without buying it, but if you’re going to let your clerk over there keep treating my friends like they’re the scum of the earth? That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Is it really important to you to have to close this store over a pair of shoes?” 

Sylvia’s smile looked strained. “Of course not.” She assured Lydia. “It would never presume to allow one of my associates to treat any customer terribly, and certainly not over a pair of shoes.” She looked at Lydia thoughtfully. “What pair were you looking at?”

Peter cleared his throat and gestured at Allison. “I believe the ladies found the pair in question.”

Allison nodded. “The round-toe mesh pumps with the corded lace appliques.” She replied promptly. “You only have one color, and you only have one in the size we want. Your… associate was trying to tell us that you didn’t have any at all.”

Sylvia paused. “Let me look in the back.” She said finally.

“Take your time. We’ll be looking at bridesmaid gowns.” Lydia’s tone was a warning, even as she smiled widely and walked away from the manager. 

“Nicely done.” Peter murmured, his lips twitching proudly.

Lydia glanced up at Peter, smiling before she laughed softly. “I mostly kept to myself, until middle school. That’s when I realized that I would have to start saying something to get people to back off or just do what I wanted them to do. It helps that I mean it. If they don’t listen, I can make a few phone calls and probably have this store closed indefinitely. I would actually hate having to make good on my threat. I just don’t understand why anyone would hide a pair of shoes that they could just order for themselves. It’s petty and spiteful. It’s also the sort of thing I probably would have done, three years ago.” 

“Perhaps she fancies herself the you of three years ago?” Peter suggested. “Perhaps she simply hasn’t grown and gained your level of wisdom.”

“She hasn’t.” Allison murmured.

“And she’s nowhere near as smart as Lyds is. I mean, she totally thinks she is, but she definitely isn’t.” Erica added.

Lydia smiled. “Well, maybe she’s someone we need to mentor, too. Like we did for Tracy and Marion.” 

The look on Erica’s face showed that she definitely had not thought of that. “Oh… yeah.” She murmured, and then smiled faintly. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But for now, we don’t like her.” Lydia added, grinning. “So let’s not be in a hurry for that.” 

Erica threw her arms around Lydia, hugging her and grinning. “You’re my favorite person in the world.”

“I’m pretty sure Boyd wouldn’t want to hear that.” Lydia teased, hugging back. “I’m going to look at swatches.” She walked over to a table and picked up a book, flipping it open. 

“Explain?” Erica requested, hurrying over to Lydia’s side. “Swatches of what? Fabric? Color?”

“Color.” Lydia murmured. She looked up at Erica. “I know I want both of you to wear something pink, but I'm not sure what shade of pink yet. It’ll look good with the skirt of my gown, and then it’s just a matter of finding a color that pairs well with your dresses.”

Allison moved up to Lydia’s other side, peering at the swatches as well, her head tilted. “My mom was in a friend’s wedding when she was eighteen,” she began, grimacing. “She used to tell me about the ‘magenta monstrosity’ her friend made her wear. I have her pictures, it was this off the shoulder, puffy, blindingly bright metallic magenta dress. It was awful. She was the only bridesmaid, so in every single picture, there’s my mom, sticking out and blinding everyone.”

Peter sat down near the girls, crossing one leg over his knee. He looked at Allison in amusement. “Some people don’t have any taste. That being said, Talia dressed my other sister in this ridiculous… orange… I think it was a ballerina’s dress, or at least an impersonation of one. It was hideous and garish and awful, and Lily refused to talk to Talia for a month after the wedding.” He gestured at Lydia. “Luckily, your best friend the bride has exquisite taste.”

Lydia smiled. “It’s also something to do with the fact that I want to see them again after Thanksgiving.” She tapped one of the swatches. “Rose gold metallic. It’ll match my dress and look good on both of you.” 

Erica inhaled deeply, reaching out to touch the swatch. “That’s fucking gorgeous, Lyds.” She said softly, nodding. “Hell yeah, I’m gonna look amazing in that. Boyd’s gonna go nuts when he sees it on me.”

Allison laughed. “I love it.” She agreed, nodding. “It’s so soft and pretty, and it leaves all of the focus right where it should be, on you.” She hugged Lydia, smiling. 

“Manager’s coming back.” Peter said quietly, his eyes flicking up to look at Lydia.

Lydia looked over her shoulder, then turned toward Sylvia. “Did you decide to let me have the shoes that your employee was refusing to sell?” 

Sylvia’s tense smile returned, and she sighed. “I’ve had a discussion with her about withholding merchandise from customers for herself, so yes.” She murmured, and lifted a box with petite ivory shoes inside, little lace florals and vines dancing across the toe and the heel. “She’s actually on her third strike. She’s a good worker, really, she’s just…” She cleared her throat. “A bit bad with people.” She offered the box to Lydia, and then folded her hands. “I do want to apologize for the games she was playing with your friends, and I really hope that you don’t think too badly of this store.”

“I don’t.” Lydia murmured, shaking her head. “I have a few more things I want to take care of, while I’m here. I’d like to see your dresses in this color.” She turned back to the book, holding it up to show Sylvia the color she had chosen for Allison and Erica. 

Sylvia looked relieved, beaming at Lydia. “Absolutely. I’ll also grab the catalog of what we have online, but not in store. You can pick out the styles you like the best, and if it’s something we don’t carry here, we can special order it for you.”

Lydia nodded. She turned toward Allison. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.” She walked away, looking for the employee that had caused them so much trouble.

Gwen sniffled quietly as she rubbed her hands over her eyes. She looked up at the wall, and then glanced toward Lydia when she heard the other woman coming. Her eyes hardened. “Great. The lady that cost me my job. Coming to gloat?”

“You’re not fired.” Lydia protested, frowning. “Are you?” 

“I’m on my ‘third strike.’ Third strike is just their way of saying I’ve worn out my welcome. Sylvia hasn’t said anything yet, but I know. It’s coming.”

“Well, there wasn’t any actual reason for you to hold a pair of shoes for yourself when you could have just as easily ordered them and had them, that way.” Lydia shook her head. “I’m not here to gloat, in any case. I thought you could benefit from my help. As it is, if you _are_ about to be fired, you’re going to need a new job and I know of a couple of places that are hiring.” 

Gwen looked at her strangely, before looking confused. “You… want to help me?” She asked, frowning. “Why?”

“Because you need help.” Lydia smiled. “Do I need another reason?” 

“Everyone else usually does.” Gwen hesitated. “Well, no, that’s… most people don’t need a reason to help because they don’t really plan to. Not me, anyway.” She was silent for a moment, and then sighed. “I’m sorry about the shoes. I was being selfish. I just really, really wanted them, and I didn’t want to have to go through the trouble of waiting when they were right there.”

“How old are you?” Lydia demanded. “You can’t be much older than me.” 

“Twenty.” Gwen replied, frowning a little. “Why?” 

“Because I wanted to know. You have some serious trust issues.” Lydia wondered how Stiles always managed to bring in more pack members. She was certain that he was abrasive and that she was the friendly one.

Gwen paused. “Uh. Yeah, I do.” She replied, staring at Lydia. She sighed. “So… what exactly were you wanting to help me with again? You said something about jobs that are hiring?”

“Yeah, a friend of mine owns a diner.” Lydia nodded. “And there’s the animal clinic. Another friend of mine is going to college in New York, this fall. He’s going to need someone to replace him. Are you allergic to dander?” 

Gwen shook her head. “No, definitely not.” She huffed a laugh. “Otherwise, my dogs would have to have new homes.” She sat up a little straighter. “The animal clinic, huh?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“The only catch is that you’ll have to start spending time around my other friends.” Lydia laughed. “Is that going to be too much for you?” 

Gwen hesitated. “Um… I mean, it might? If your friends are ready to stay pissed off at me?”

“Just don’t piss them off again.” Lydia said lightly. “Help me with a few other things around here and see if you’re actually fired, and then we’ll go have dinner.” 

Gwen nodded slowly and stood up. “Okay.” She said carefully. “What - um, what can I help with?”

Lydia walked back over to Peter, Allison and Erica as she explained that she was looking for dresses in the color she had chosen. She knew she wouldn’t have to explain herself to the others, since two of them could hear her just fine and would have undoubtedly told Allison what was happening. 

Gwen glanced up at the three people Lydia had been with, and then quickly looked away, nodding at Lydia. “I’ll grab everything I can.” She murmured. “What about him?” She asked, gesturing at Peter. “Does your boyfriend need to get anything? We carry mens’ things, too.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my boyfriend’s uncle.” Lydia scoffed. “Who actually brings their husband-to-be when they’re looking at wedding gowns?” 

Gwen shrugged. “Figured you were being progressive. There are co-ed wedding showers and bachelor-and-bachelorette parties now, so… But, anyway. He doesn’t need anything?”

“No.” Peter called over, sighing. “I don’t need anything. Not now. I have my own tailor.”

“Of course you do.” Lydia muttered, shaking her head. She walked away, irritated by having to wait, and started looking through the gowns in the color she wanted for her attendants. 

Gwen moved to the same row as her, looking awkwardly at the rack as she pulled the color dresses that Lydia was choosing. “Sorry if I stepped out of line with anything I said.” She murmured. “I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything.” She paused. “This time.”

Lydia laughed. “Surprisingly, I’m not even all that offended. Peter and I had a lot of problems with one another, but then he started showing an interest in one of my best friends and I developed feelings for his nephew, and now we get along really well. Or at least, I’d like to think so.” 

“We do.” Peter called over again, smiling crookedly over at her. “You’re my favorite soon-to-be niece.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’m the only person you can even say that to!” 

“True.” Peter tilted his head. “Well, unless Isaac plans to get a sex change operation. Even so, he wouldn’t be my favorite.”

“And I think Cora would have something to say about that, anyway.” Lydia eyed Allison for a moment, then got a dress from the rack and held it up to look at it. She held it out to Gwen expectantly, then did the same with another dress of the same color. “Come here, you two.” 

Allison trailed over, Erica and Peter accompanying her closely. Her eyes lit up when she saw the dress. “Oh!”

Peter made his way around, standing at Lydia’s shoulder and watching critically. 

Gwen held the first dress up against Allison, and then glanced at Lydia expectantly. 

Lydia nodded. “And now the other one, on Erica?” She gestured. 

“I got it!” Erica reached for the dress and promptly held it up against herself, looking down at it thoughtfully. She cocked her head to the side, and then looked for a mirror. “It’s hard to know what my ass is going to look like in this dress until I get in a dressing room, but the front looks pretty damn good.”

“Then go try them on. Something is missing, though. I’ll look around while you guys do that.” Lydia murmured. 

Erica saluted her. “Will do, boss lady.” She hurried toward a dressing room.

Allison laughed as she followed after her, clutching her own dress reverently in her arms. 

Gwen looked over at her. “What are you thinking? Hair accessories? Jewelry? Something else?”

“Something else. The dresses are nice, but that’s just one color.” Lydia mused. “Do you have anything you can add to them, maybe? A belt or - well, not a belt. A sash?” 

Gwen smiled crookedly. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got just the thing.” She told Lydia before walking away. She came back moments later with two vibrantly colored sashes in the same shade. “These will make the dresses pop, but not in an obnoxious, show-stealing kinda way.”

“What color is that?” Lydia asked, smiling. 

Gwen flipped the tag over. “‘Raspberry,’” she read out loud. “I mean, it looks just like a really dark magenta to me, but sure, raspberries are this color, too. I think.”

Lydia laughed, glancing at Peter. “I guess that’s fate, then.” She shrugged. “Okay.” She took the ribbons from Gwen, going to the fitting rooms. “Come out here when you’re dressed, I want to see and try something out.” 

Allison was the first one out, ducking her head shyly even as a grin stretched across her face. “I think this is the prettiest dress I’ve ever had on and that includes the one Peter picked out for me for the Winter Formal.”

Peter snorted. “Just wait. You’ve seen nothing yet.” He assured her.

“Right, you’ll have your own wedding, one day.” Lydia agreed. She set one ribbon aside, wrapping the other around Allison’s waist. It covered a lace band, but Lydia didn’t really love that detail of the gown, anyway. She turned her friend toward the mirrors. “See? And then your shoes can match the ribbon.” 

Allison looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands over the front of the dress and down her sides with a smile. She turned to the left, then turned to the right, nodding. “I love it.” She murmured. “I love these colors.”

“Me too.” Lydia murmured. “So I guess that’s it, then. Hold this.” She took a picture of Allison’s dress and the sash, sending it to Derek. She added a text a moment later. ‘Rose gold metallic and raspberry.’ 

‘It looks fantastic.’ Derek texted back. ‘I’ll try and match that sash color for Boyd’s tie and cummerbund. If there’s a cummerbund. I still haven’t decided yet.’ There was a pause, and then he texted again. ‘Would you be opposed if I asked Stiles to be my best man?’

‘No, since I already discussed Peter walking me down the aisle.’ Lydia tried not to laugh. ‘I don’t care that you two have history. We live with Jackson and there’s no issue there.’

‘Mostly because he doesn’t make trouble. Well, anymore.’ There was a beat, and then Derek sent another text. ‘I’m trying not to have problems with him anymore. Really. If he’s willing to be a part of this… I mean, that’s already more steps forward than I’ve taken with him.’

‘Are we still talking about Stiles, or are you talking about Jackson now?’ 

‘Peter, actually. Stiles and I are good. Jackson and I, too, otherwise I would have strangled him the first week we were living together.’ Derek replied. ‘Peter, though. Things haven’t been okay between us in years. But I want them to be. So maybe this, having him in the wedding, giving you away to me, maybe that’s a good step.’

‘Right. But we weren’t discussing Peter.’ Lydia pointed out. ‘You were verifying that I’d be fine with Stiles being in the wedding.’ 

‘Right, yes.’ Derek replied. ‘Uh. Honestly, you mentioned Peter and I got distracted by it, and then I decided to capitalize on it, since I don’t - I mean, I know I don’t discuss him, ever. But - yes. I’m glad you’re okay with Stiles being in the wedding. I’ll call him later and ask him officially.’

‘I’m surprised you didn’t ask him last night.’ Lydia glanced up at Allison. “I’m not even married yet and I feel like we’re already arguing. Not in a serious way, but it’s frustrating me.” 

Allison sat down next to her, arranging the dress so that she didn’t stomp all over it. “I think it’s supposed to be frustrating.” She admitted. “I mean… Mal and I aren’t perfect, and we do argue. I don’t think the sun shines out of her ass or anything, and the blunt thing can be… tiring. Very tiring. Especially in public.” Her lips twitched. “Except sometimes it’s funny as hell.” She looked at Lydia. “What did he say that’s frustrating you?”

“It’s stupid.” Lydia began. “I told you last night that I wanted you in the wedding, and although I said I wanted Erica just to plan the bachelorette party, and then I changed my mind, at least that was something. He just asked me if I would be all right with Stiles being his best man. When have I ever indicated that it would be a problem, honestly? Not only that, but I said I was going to have Peter walk me down the aisle, and he changed the subject without any clear indication to say that it was okay with him that Peter walks me down the aisle, and I understand his concern, but... it’s not his decision.” 

“No, it’s not.” Allison agreed. “And nothing you’re ever concerned about is stupid. But I do think I get why he was worried about Stiles. They were making plans to get married before you and Derek ended up together, and he probably didn’t want to say anything yesterday because he wanted to talk to you about it first. That way, if for some reason you weren’t okay with it, he’d forget about it.” She furrowed her brows. “I’m not going to touch his issues with Peter with a ten foot pole, but you’re absolutely right that it’s not Derek’s decision who you ask to give you away.”

“They were planning to get married as some sort of method of Stiles ignoring...” Lydia pressed her lips together, typing on her phone before she sent Allison a text. ‘Peter said that he and Stiles don’t think they’re OTLs.’ 

Allison grabbed her phone when it went off, and then stared at the message blankly before she muttered out loud, “Are you fucking kidding me, those two…” She furiously texted back. ‘Why in the hell do they think that, then? They know about the red string you saw!’

‘I guess that it has something to do with Stiles’ spell not lining up entirely with Peter’s wants. But I know I’m not wrong.’ Lydia shook her head as she looked at Allison. ‘But I also think that if there’s any doubt, they’re just wasting their time and they should break up.’ 

Allison looked over her shoulder at Peter and looked back at Lydia, sighing. ‘But they won’t, so they’ll be in a constant cycle now of We Want to Be Together But Are We Actually Supposed to Be until someone gets fed up and someone else gets hurt.’ She pressed her lips together, gazing at her best friend. ‘We should do something. Like… I don’t know, kick them both in the ass. But that would just make me feel better, not either of them.’

Lydia laughed. ‘Make them confront whatever they’re ignoring, I think.’ 

Allison grinned. ‘Definitely. The thing is, I know for a fact that some of the things on Stiles’ list came true. I don’t know when Peter fell for him, obviously, but I definitely know that he wanted to have a large pack, and that he was going to be offered the CIA thing from the additions on his list, but I mean… from the actual list, the actual spell he cast? Peter pretty much never leaves him alone. Even when Peter doesn’t even want to be where everyone else is, when Stiles is there, he gravitates right to him. And he grew up in the forest - that sort of means he has to love it, right?’ She sighed and sent another message. ‘If there was a way to go back in time so that they’d meet like anyone else would, and everything could come true, I’d make it happen just so they stop having doubts. But I trust what you saw. I don’t understand why they can’t. Won’t?’ She sent the message, looking conflicted.

“When Erica decides to finally come out here and stop gawking at herself, tie that second ribbon around her waist.” Lydia stood up, a determined look in her eye as she walked over to Peter. “You need to do something about this.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows at her, glancing down at the book of fabric swatches in his hands before lifting it pointedly and looking back at her. “I thought I was.”

“Not the color scheme. You and Stiles.” Lydia shook her head. “If you both believe that you’re not really meant to be together, you should discuss that. Like adults. But I know what I’ve seen, so I don’t understand why either of you have doubts. Still, you do have doubts.” 

Peter sighed and closed the book to focus his attention on her. “Yes, we do. And I think we always will. But part of what we both discussed was that even with those doubts, we weren’t willing to leave each other. Stiles has told me outright that even if he comes into the knowledge somehow that I’m not actually… his, he has no plans on leaving me. And I certainly don’t plan on leaving him. Not now that I have him.”

“Then I don’t understand why you have a problem.” Lydia muttered. “If you know you’re going to stay together, then you should just tell him that you know that you’re not the person he was looking for.” 

“I’m not the sort of person anyone would look for.” Peter muttered. “But… yes. I’ll tell him.” He agreed.

“He should be able to take phone calls now. The two of you have put this off long enough. I’ll take the phone and talk if things get too strained.” Lydia waved a hand at him. “Call him.” 

Peter stared at her for a moment, then stood up and set the book down on his chair before he pulled his phone out and dialed Stiles’ number. “Erica’s finally decided to emerge. Worse than Narcissus, that one.” He frowned. “And Laura, for that matter.”

“I knew Laura. She wasn’t vain.” Lydia protested, smiling. 

“Hey.” Stiles answered. “Missed me that much?” 

Peter huffed out a laugh. “Always.” He murmured. “I’m… calling because of the conversation we had a few months ago. I know you remember which one. I wanted to tell you.... My feelings haven’t changed. Not in the least. I don’t… I won’t leave you. This is not a break-up call, Stiles, do you understand me? I am not going to break up with you. Ever. In fact, I think one day I may embarrass myself and clutch my arms around one of your legs to hold you in one place from… well, it’s occurring to me how much I need you. But I don’t…” He sighed. “I know you’re concerned about your spell and… how things haven’t quite matched up. I know you have doubts about if I’m actually the one your spell meant for you to end up with. I don’t think I am. I want to be, but I just don’t think I am.”

“For not being a break-up call, it sure as hell sounds like one.” Stiles muttered. “What exactly doesn’t match up?” 

“The things in your spell.” Peter frowned. “With me. I don’t… match up. I don’t meet your… requirements. And it’s not a break-up, it’s a call that Lydia demanded I make. I listened to her because I don’t want my eardrum blown out.”

“So your favorite place isn’t a library?” Stiles muttered. “And you don’t love the forest? You don’t eat ice cream in winter?” 

Peter paused. “Well… yes. To all of that.” He furrowed his brows together. “But you said that you had doubts if I was the one your spell meant. Because we’d already met, and your spell stated that we wouldn’t meet until after everything else already happened.”

“I never altered it.” Stiles blurted. “I was going to, but you said it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to me, and I thought that since it didn’t matter, there was no point in trying to fix something that wasn’t even broken. But it’s still bothering you that much that you felt the need to discuss it with Lydia?” 

Peter was silent, sighing quietly. “I didn’t think it was bothering me, but I suppose it was. I already know I’m yours. I want to… I want to actually know that I’m who… I’m what the world wants for you. I want to be who you deserve. And… yes, I felt uncertain enough about it that I did discuss it with Lydia. I know what she saw between us, and I know what you want, and it’s just… it won’t reconcile in my head. I’m not what anyone would want in a relationship, Stiles, but I want to be yours.”

“I just want you to see that you’re not the person you think you are.” Stiles protested. “I don’t really understand why you’re calling me to talk about this, like this. I mean, over the phone? And it’s like, no matter how often I keep telling you that I think you’re amazing, you just don’t _want_ to see it. I was trying to get past this whole idea that my spell went wrong, that everyone else can have-” He sighed. “I have to go. We’ll talk later, okay?” 

“Okay.” Peter agreed softly. 

“Damn it!” Stiles snapped. “No, I won’t be quiet.” He told the person sitting beside him. “Peter, you... god. I can’t even talk to you right now, just... I’m really pissed off at you.” He hung up. 

Peter tugged the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a moment, then walked right outside and threw it into traffic. Calmly, he walked back inside and blankly stared at Lydia. “Do you need anything from me right now?”

Lydia shook her head. “I’m sorry.” 

Peter ignored her, walking out of the shop without another word.

Erica approached cautiously, Allison behind her. “I didn’t have my ears on.” She murmured to Lydia, staring after Peter. “What the hell happened?”

“I told him to call Stiles and get their concerns out in the open, instead of just ignoring them. I thought, I suppose foolishly, that they would find out that they had no actual problems and that they could both relax. Instead, Stiles yelled at Peter for dredging things up. He hung up on him, and Peter threw his phone out into the street.” Lydia looked worried. “I think we should leave, but I want to get this other stuff paid for first, and I don’t want to just leave Peter. I don’t think I should even try to approach him right now.” 

Erica chewed on her lower lip. “I could keep an eye on him? From, like, a distance. If he’s pissed right now, I think staying far away is my best bet. But I could at least make sure that he doesn’t go and do something extreme?”

Lydia nodded. She handed her purse to Allison. “Could you go pay for everything? I need to sit down.” 

Allison took the purse and nodded at her. “Of course.” She murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze Lydia’s shoulder. She waved at Erica and turned around to pay for their things before returning to sit down beside Lydia, bags in her arms.

“What did you buy?” Lydia blinked. “I mean, what are we bringing out? We still need our gowns altered. Is it my shoes?” 

Allison nodded, smiling gently at her. “Your shoes. Erica’s shoes, they’re these huge pink monstrosities that she plans to actually walk in. My shoes. The sashes. And your floral headband. I kept everything separate because I didn’t want anything to crush anything else.”

“Thank you.” Lydia murmured. “I feel like I ruined everything. I want to call Stiles and apologize, but I don’t know if it would help.” 

Allison set the bags and Lydia’s purse down gently, and then reached out to put her hand on top of Lydia’s. “You wanted to help. You didn’t ruin things. If anything, you got them to stop ignoring something that was probably festering inside them. It’s not your fault that it blew up.” She sighed, patting Lydia’s hand carefully. “Give them both some time. Because honestly, if you approach either one of them, and either of them yell at you, I’m going to hit something. Probably them.”

Lydia nodded. “Okay.” She stared down at her phone, then called Derek. “I need your help here.” 

“I’m on my way.” Derek replied immediately.

“I made a mistake.” Lydia continued, frowning. “I was trying to help Peter and Stiles, and instead, they got into an argument and Peter threw his phone, and he’s wandered off. I would go try to talk to him, but I know how he is when he’s angry and I don’t think that I can... I can’t fix this.” 

Derek exhaled softly. “Okay. We’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I can’t promise that we can fix this, because I think that only Stiles and Peter can do that, but we’ll do everything we can. It’s a mistake, but it was made with the best of intentions - this isn’t your fault, Lyds.”

“It feels like it is.” Lydia sighed. “I’ll be waiting outside when you get here.” She nodded to Allison, grabbing one of the bags and her purse. She carried them outside, relieved for the breeze coming from the mountains. 

Allison followed her out, sticking close to Lydia’s side and looking around quietly with a sigh. 

Derek pulled up to the curb not long after that, getting out of the car. He reached for Lydia immediately, taking her bag with one hand and pressing a kiss to her lips, his other hand gently stroking her back. “Come on, love,” he murmured, opening the passenger side door for her.

Lydia shook her head. “I drove. I just... I was hoping you could talk to Peter?” 

Derek didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.” Lydia kissed Derek again. “I’m going back to the loft and trying to rest.” 

“Take as long as you need.” Derek told her, brushing another kiss across her forehead. “I’ll try to be quiet when I come back.” He lifted both of her hands in his, pressing kisses to her knuckles with a small smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Lydia smiled. She glanced at Allison. “Do you need to do anything else around here, or do you want a ride home?” 

Allison looked around, thinking, and then shook her head. “No, I don’t think I need anything else right now. Nothing that can’t wait, anyway. But I would appreciate a ride home, please. And thank you.” She nodded.


	23. The Words

Erica sat cross-legged at her desk chair, a massive bowl of kettle corn in front of her as she stared at the little connection animation on her computer screen. Tapping at her desk lightly, she yawned, gaze darting toward Stiles’ name to make sure he was still online before her gaze returned to the camera. “Answer answer answer answer,” she chanted, and then popped a kernel in her mouth.

Stiles sat down in front of his laptop, accepting the call and waving a hand at his camera. “Hey, Erica.” 

Erica waved back at him, one hand full of popcorn and a fond smile on her face. “Hiya, handsome. How’s it going?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Stiles shook his head. “I’m not really talking to Peter right now, and I guess that means we broke up. I know that he was just doing what Lydia asked, I guess, but it’s not like he’s incapable of saying no. He could have told her to fuck off or something. I’m supposed to go try to find a job, and I can’t even bring myself to do that because I just want to stay in here and mope for a while.” 

“I get that.” Erica murmured. “I mean, really, I do. Not to make you feel guilty, but that’s all I did for a week the second I realized I had a crush on you and you couldn’t see past the end of your nose if Lydia was there. Which she always was. I kind of hated her a lot. Whatever, I’m over it. Listen - this thing… with Peter, it’s fucked up, it is. And I know you two were trying to make the best of it, but frankly, I think you got too stuck on your spell, and I think Peter got too stuck on the idea of wanting to be everything your spell asked for. If you’re actually broken up, that really fucking sucks, because you two are literally meant to fucking be, but… sitting on this shit, stuffing it in the back of your head because you don’t wanna think about it. That’s not okay, babe.”

“I don’t want to have to start over with someone else.” Stiles blurted, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not just like - Peter isn’t some kind of safeguard or something. I told him I love him months ago. Almost a whole year ago, actually? But he’ll never believe that he’s worth it. I don’t know what more I can do, Erica. I feel like when he doesn’t listen to me, he’s just saying that my opinion doesn’t mean shit to him. He’s never said it back, and I get that he’s not ready. I think now, though, that the reason he wasn’t ready was because he thought this was going to happen. And now it has, so good for him. A-freaking-plus.” 

Erica was quiet for a moment, and then snorted. “Holy shit, you’re both so fucked up.” She muttered. “Has he ever even been in a relationship before? Has he ever been with anyone that legitimately was more than a booty call for him? Does he even fucking know what love is in order to say it back to you? He’s completely screwed up, Stiles. He has been for years, that’s never been a secret. You don’t come out of what _he_ survived with a normal outlook on life and rose-freaking-colored glasses. I’m not defending him outright, you know, if he was on the phone with me trying to explain why he says and does half of the shit he does, why he acts the way he does, I’d tell him he’s fucking stupid, too. Of course he was fucking expecting you to break up with him! You’re the only good thing that’s happened to him in years, after he woke up from a coma, after he made himself a deranged serial killer, after he killed his own niece for power and nearly killed his own nephew. He’s less cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs now than he was then, but what in the hell would make him think that he deserves anything good after all the bad shit he’s done? It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him how amazing and wonderful and incredible he is, Stiles. Thinking that he isn’t good enough, that he doesn’t deserve you, that it’s only a matter of time until you find someone better… those aren’t going to magically disappear from his head.” 

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” Stiles muttered. “The difference is that I’ve spent the better part of two years trying to be patient with him and I can’t do it anymore, so if that’s all you called to talk about, I’m gonna hang up now.” 

“Hang up on me, I’m just going to call you back again and again until you block me.” Erica looked thoughtful. “And then I’ll probably call you from someone else’s account.” She sighed. “This isn’t the same when you’re not right here next to me and I can’t hug you when you get big sad eyes.” She rubbed her non-sugary hand over her face, studying him silently before she asked softly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to push you, and I’m sorry to hear that you can’t do it anymore, babe. That - hurts a lot, actually, because you were really happy. I wish you wouldn’t give up on him, that’s all. Maybe all he needs is a therapist for shit to get done, but… I don’t know. I think the only way he can give you what you want without being uber fucked up about it is if he’s suddenly swapped out in time with a younger Peter that hasn’t gone through what he’s gone through. Sorry I keep talking about it. I just wanna see you fucking happy, and you have been.”

“I was.” Stiles agreed, shrugging. “Now I’m not.” He rubbed his eyes. “And the worst part is that he’s moving out here sometime this summer, with Malia and Allison. So I’m going to see him at some point. I mean, I know, we’re all pack and everything, that didn’t change and I don’t want it to change. I just wanted him to believe me, you know? I don’t want to talk about it anymore, though.” 

Erica had to bite her lip - she sure as heck wasn’t done talking about it, she wanted to talk about it _more_ , to push her Alpha and his soulmate back together - but she looked down at the table and nodded, forcing herself not to say another word about it. Maybe Derek had gotten through to Peter somehow. She tossed back another piece of popcorn, catching it in her mouth easily before she studied Stiles, her eyes soft as she dutifully changed the subject. “How’s the transition going? Kira pissed you off yet?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Stiles shook his head. “She’s already got a job and she’s going to pay her share of the rent every month, so I need to hold up my end of the deal.” 

“Any occult bookstores out there that you can take advantage of?” Erica tilted her head. She hesitated. “Or, you know, regular bookstores work, too.”

“I’ll probably look into those, yeah. When I feel like going outside.” Stiles bit his lip. “Listen, I have to go. Seriously. I’ll talk to you later.” He disconnected the call, then stared at the list of other people from the pack. He didn’t want to talk to Lydia, and he had a feeling that Allison would just be more of the same conversation that Erica had been saying. Scott would probably take the opportunity to gloat, and Stiles didn’t want to deal with that, either. He called Derek, mostly to prevent Erica from calling him back. 

Derek looked surprised as he accepted the call, but happy. “Hi! I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“Yeah, so has everyone else, apparently. With a few exceptions.” Stiles muttered. “I just wanted to say that Erica knows now that I’m kind of, um, done. With Peter. Like, I don’t want to be, but I don’t think there’s much of a choice? So I wanted to say something to someone else before she gets the chance, and I don’t know if he even knows, but he probably does. Since he figured it was going to happen and nothing else I said could change that.” 

Derek faltered, and then sighed. “I - I’m sorry to hear that.” He murmured. “Yeah, he’s been… well.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “But the reason I wanted to call you wasn’t about that, actually. I know this probably isn’t a good time now. I don’t want to upset you, and you can say no, or hang up on me, or anything you like, but I actually wanted to ask you if you would be my best man.”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “I can do that. I mean, I’ll be back in town anyway, so it’s not like - I mean, I’d show up if you needed me to go to Paris or whatever.” He snorted. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, I’m kind of back to being - well, how I was before.” 

“I understand, though.” Derek murmured quietly. “I know. It’s alright, Stiles.” He exhaled, studying his friend. “How are you? Aside from…” He gestured with one hand, blindly indicating what had happened between Stiles and Peter.

“I’m okay.” Stiles sighed. “I have all of my stuff unpacked already and I need to find a job. Erica suggested bookstores, so I’ll probably do that. I was thinking about it, anyway. I just need to motivate myself to get it together long enough to go apply everywhere.” 

Derek tilted his head and shrugged. “Well, money is usually a good motivator.” He pointed out, smiling crookedly.

Stiles laughed. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I keep thinking about calling him, but I’d rather see his face and he hasn’t been on here. Or he is, and he’s invisible to me.” 

“He hasn’t been on.” Derek murmured. “He, ah… well, apparently after you talked, he threw his phone into the street.” He leaned forward. “I went to his apartment to talk to him, and if he’s touched his laptop, he’s been very careful about how, because there weren’t any fresh fingerprints, and his scent was faded from it. He’s still in town, though, I can confirm that.”

“Is he okay?” Stiles asked quietly. “Did he get a new phone?” 

Derek nodded. “He sent me out to get one for him.” He admitted, rubbing his chin. “He’s, ah… shit. I’m not going to lie to you. He’s not okay. Angry, yes. Miserable, yes. Definitely not okay.”

“Should I call him?” Stiles breathed in shakily. “Would he just hang up, do you think?” 

“I don’t think he’d hang up. And… I think you need to talk to him.” Derek studied Stiles. “But I don’t know if you should call him first. Personally, I think he needs to be the one to call you. He called you last time, and that ended badly, yeah, but I just think that means that he needs to be the one to call you again to fix it.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. 

Derek gave Stiles a small, gentle smile. “I’ll talk to him, okay? The only reason he’s acting like this is because he’s angry that he did exactly what he didn’t want to do.”

“I think you have that backwards.” Stiles muttered. “He kept saying he wasn’t worth the trouble.” 

Derek hummed. “Yeah, maybe. He can be stupid like that. And coming from me, that’s saying something. But it doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.” He murmured. “He’s kicking himself for that, believe me. Look, I’m not saying that you need to get back together. If you don’t feel comfortable doing that, then don’t do it. You need to do what’s best for you. But… talking is good. And I’ll get on his case about that as soon as possible.”

“I miss him.” Stiles blurted. “It’s been hard, not calling him.” 

Derek’s eyes softened. “You love him.” He murmured. “Not being in communication with him when he does something dumb, and then cuts off all methods of communication… You’re stronger than I am. Smarter.” He studied Stiles for a moment. “Do you want me to go talk to him now? Get him off his ass and tell him to call you?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Stiles cleared his throat. “Unless he wants to just get on a plane and come out here now.” 

Derek smiled crookedly. “I’ll mention it. You might end up with a surprise visitor.”

“I hope so.” Stiles admitted. “Okay, stop talking to me and go plan your wedding.” He laughed. “I’ll be okay, even if Peter doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’ll just take me a little longer.” 

Derek smiled back at him. “Allison and Erica’s dresses are rose-gold metallic and raspberry. See what you can find at least for shirts and ties. I haven’t decided on the style of suit yet.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Stiles grabbed a piece of paper to write down the color names. “Do I need to do anything else? Give a speech, right?” 

“Give a speech, yes.” Derek nodded. “And maybe help me decide what suits I should look at? Obviously I haven’t seen Lydia’s dress, but I’ve got the colors the girls are wearing so I can coordinate as closely as possible. And I’m not sure if I should pick something casual or not. Oh, and… the bachelor party.” Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t need a stripper.” His lips twitched.

Stiles laughed. “I wouldn’t have hired one, anyway.” He shook his head. “Don’t go casual, Lydia would freak out.” 

“Okay.” Derek nodded, thinking. “So lean more toward traditional. I can do that.”

Stiles smiled. “I think your wedding is going to be amazing. I’m going to take a shower and stop wallowing in my own gross smell, and go look for a job or clothes or something. I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Okay.” Derek laughed softly. “I’ll be here. Good luck in your hunting, whatever you hunt for.”

“Thanks.” Stiles closed his laptop. 

Derek closed his own laptop, and then turned to the side, eyes narrowed at his uncle. “You heard it from Stiles’ own mouth.” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Now what are you going to do about it?”

**

Stiles glanced at his watch, then went into the back room to clock out. It had been seven days, sixteen hours and four minutes since he broke up with Peter, and the fact that he was keeping track of time that closely said a lot about his mental state. He pulled off his uniform t-shirt and put his Captain America shirt on instead, stuffing the black polo shirt into his backpack before he said goodbye to his co-workers and went outside. It was six o’clock in the morning and he appreciated the overnight shift. Stocking bookshelves was quiet, steady work, and it kept his hands busy enough. He just wished that his mind would stop wandering all the way back to California. He sighed, walking toward the diner that had just opened. He was only a few days into his new routine, and he was determined to keep it a routine. Go to work, clock out, go to the diner for a cup of coffee, walk home and sleep. Get up, shower. Repeat. 

“So… apparently, I’m being punished.” Peter drawled out in exhaustion, stepping forward from the diner.

“Yeah?” Stiles opened the door for Peter, gesturing for him to go ahead. He wanted to kiss him until his lips went numb, but he was grateful for the exhaustion that kept him from tackling his ex-boyfriend. “I’m having a cup of coffee. Do you need one?” 

Peter nodded, staggering forward through the door. “Please.” He said softly. He stumbled toward a table at the very back of the diner before exhaling softly as he sat down, his eyes closing in relief. He hated to close his eyes at all - now that he was finally in New York, all he wanted was to stare at Stiles, but he was so wary from everything that had happened to him that it was difficult for him to even stay awake. 

Stiles ordered two cups of coffee after he sat down across from Peter. “Do you want to talk, or do you just want to sit here?” 

“Talk. I’ve been traveling for the last five days for you. I’m not about to just sit here.” Peter breathed. “I just… need to relax for a minute.”

“Got it.” Stiles turned his coffee cup over, then reached across the table to do the same for Peter’s cup, sitting back and yawning. “I’ll try to stay awake while you do that. I just got off work about ten minutes ago.” 

Peter nodded, blinking languidly, relieved to finally be able to sit back and not be on a constant look out. After a moment, the tension flowed out of his shoulders, and he sat back, looking at Stiles as he reached for his coffee and took a sip. “I left Beacon Hills five nights and twelve hours ago.” He said quietly. “And it’s as though… there was something testing me all along the way. Putting obstacles in my path to you. I bought a plane ticket, intending to leave for Redding the night you talked to Derek about being his best man. The plane’s wheels suddenly fell out from under it - no one was on the plane - and the flight was canceled. And somehow, there were no remaining flights. Driving out to San Francisco would waste too much time, and it would be in the wrong direction besides, so I drove east toward Reno with the intention of flying out from there.” He sighed. “And the car broke down right in the middle of the trip, so I clearly couldn’t go to Reno. I shifted and tried finding my way toward a car rental place.” He lifted his wrist and tugged the sleeve back, then did the same with the other one before fanning himself. “Got turned around when I happened by an old hunter’s cabin and ended up stumbling through some wolfsbane right into a bear trap. When I managed to get loose, I was a lot more careful - or I tried to be. An SUV in the middle of the road nearly ran me down in my wolf form and by the time I’d stopped running away, I was in Wyoming.” He took another sip of coffee, and then leaned forward, resting his forehead on the table and exhaling softly. “And I just got more and more of the same the closer I got to New York. Every step I made that brought me closer to you started off as simple coincidences and gradually became more and more life threatening. The most recent one happened as soon as I set foot inside the city, when I was ambushed by a very foolish, very desperate omega who stole all five hundred dollars in cash that I had in my pocket as well as my Rolex.” He looked at Stiles. “I’m very, very tired and feeling extremely ashamed, embarrassed and completely demoralized. But…” There was a loud exhale. “I’m so stupidly happy to see you.”

“Why didn’t you just slit his throat?” Stiles asked quietly. “And I’m glad to see you, too.” 

“Because I’m exhausted.” Peter said softly. “And I don’t care about it, not if it delayed my chance to see you even more.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured. “We’ll talk while we drink our coffee. When the coffee is gone, you’ll go to your apartment and I’ll go find that mugger and get your stuff back for you.” 

“Stiles…” Peter murmured, gazing at him. “I really don’t care about it. It’s just money. It’s just a watch. I can have more, whenever I like.” He swallowed. “I’d rather spend time with you.”

“It’s not the money that’s the issue. It’s that this is a guy who has more than likely been doing this for awhile and I’m the son of a cop. I’m not just going to ignore this.” Stiles protested. “Whether or not I get your stuff back for you, I’m stopping him.” 

Peter paused, and then nodded. “Okay.” He murmured. “I won’t stop you. But… I will help you. I still have his scent.”

“Okay.” Stiles agreed. He thanked the waitress for filling their cups with coffee, adding sugar to his before he took a drink. He thought about Hayden’s insistence that he and Peter were like Buffy and Spike, and how it seemed to hold true, now that they were broken up and still going to deal with problems. “I don’t really know what else to say.” 

“Say I’m an idiot.” Peter said softly. “Say that you think I’m terrible at life and that you don’t know how in the hell I’ve actually survived as long as I have. Say anything. Just please talk to me.”

“I don’t think any of those things!” Stiles snapped. “This is why we broke up. You don’t listen.” He shook his head, leaning forward to get his wallet out of his pocket. He threw a twenty dollar bill onto the table, getting up and putting his wallet back. “When I told Derek to tell you to come out here, that I missed you? I didn’t mean that I missed this. I love you and I can’t - you’re just going to keep believing that you’re not worth it and I’m tired of trying to convince you.” 

Peter stared at him and stood up as well. “Then… stop trying to convince me.” He said quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever believe that I am worth it, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that I can have you and not expect the other shoe to fall. But I know that I want you, and that I want to be with you. Only ever you.”

“That’s not enough for me.” Stiles muttered. He walked outside, not wanting everyone in the diner to see him arguing with Peter. The logical thing would be to go home, look into other reported muggings and track the omega after he got some sleep. Instead, he stayed where he was, knowing Peter would just follow him, otherwise.

Peter did follow him, sighing to himself. He didn’t know what to do other than that, and he didn’t know how to make himself believe that he deserved Stiles, or that he was worthy of love and worthy of Stiles. There was just something sour lingering in the pit of his stomach, and an exhausted resignation in the back of his mind that nothing he could do from this point on would get Stiles back.

“Look, we’ll find this guy and deal with him, and then you’re going home. Whether that means your apartment here or back to Beacon Hills, that’s up to you.” Stiles said calmly. “You’re still not getting what I'm trying to tell you, as far as any hope goes for a relationship between us. You’re the one with the tracking device built into your nostrils, start tracking.” He gestured ahead of him. 

Peter nodded briefly, walking past Stiles as a blank expression crossed his face. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, then turned to the left and started walking without a word.

Stiles followed behind Peter. He kept his gaze on the streets as they passed them, since he wasn’t very familiar with the area yet and didn’t want to rely on his phone GPS to find his way back. That would just get _him_ mugged, next. He did get his phone out, sending a text to Kira to tell her that he would be later than usual and asking if she wanted him to bring anything home. His next text was to Derek and it consisted of a bunch of question and exclamation marks, even though he knew it was only three a.m. for the beta. 

‘Why in the hell…. What does any of this mean and why would you wake me up with it.’ Derek texted back several minutes later.

Stiles snorted. ‘Peter is here and still not getting why we broke up. We’re tracking a mugger, because on top of everything else, he willingly let an omega steal from him.’ 

‘Oh christ.’ Derek replied. ‘I don’t even know what to say to that. Just… track the omega and deal with him, and then send Peter home. I’ll figure things out from there. I might need to look up a therapist.’

‘I’m on it.’ Stiles replied, then shoved his phone into his pocket. 

“I’ll be on my way once we get done with the omega.” Peter muttered quietly. “Don’t worry. You won’t need to do anything drastic to get me to leave.”

“I want you to be quiet.” Stiles muttered in response. “So do that, and help me kill the omega, and then... yeah. Whatever.” 

Peter grit his teeth but didn’t say anything else, leading Stiles down the street, before taking a corner and heading toward a bar. He gestured his hand at the back alley of the bar before folding his arms across his chest.

Stiles was tired and annoyed, and not in the mood for bullshit. He made sure that nobody else was in the alley, ahead of them, and then stormed toward the omega, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him up from his seated position, on the ground. “You stole my beta’s money and his watch. You’re going to give them back now.” 

“I don’t have your beta’s shit!” The omega snapped. “And if I did, it’s his loss for being so pathetic in the first place!”

Stiles shook his head. “Wrong answer.” He breathed fire onto the man’s feet, just enough to scorch his shoes. “The watch and the money or you’re going to be a story on the five o’clock news.” 

The omega yelped, kicking his feet frantically. “No! Oh my god!’ 

Peter couldn’t resist snickering quietly, though he did remain silent, never speaking a word.

“Last chance.” Stiles muttered. “Give me everything you’ve stolen.” 

The omega sputtered, still struggling. “In - in my pocket,” he blurted.

Stiles smirked. “You really want me to reach in there for you?” 

The omega scowled. “Get off of me, then!”

“If you even think about running...” Stiles let go of the man’s shirt. 

The omega kept his eyes on Stiles, reaching into his pocket. As he withdrew his hand and the things he’d stolen, he suddenly whipped them at Stiles and made a run for it. 

Peter snarled and grabbed the omega around the throat, lifting him up before flipping him back into the ground and putting a foot on his chest. 

Stiles gathered everything, handing Peter’s watch and money back to him. He put the rest of the money in his wallet after he counted it, putting everything else into his backpack. There wasn’t much, just a few rings and a necklace, but he was determined to get them back to their rightful owners. “Everything good?” He asked Peter. 

Peter’s expression twisted, and within seconds, he’d stomped his boot straight through the omega’s chest. He withdrew it, stared at Stiles for a long moment, and then nodded shortly. Everything was not good, and he was caught in the fatalistic mindset that they would never be good again as he began cleaning up the omega’s body, preparing to dispose of it properly. 

“Move back.” Stiles commanded. “I’ll take care of it. You should probably just go home. Uh, to California, I think.” 

Peter froze, an awful look on his face, but he listened to Stiles and moved back from the body. Shaking, he turned away without another word. 

Stiles immolated the omega’s corpse, grimacing when he finished about twenty minutes later. “Peter?” He called out, wondering if it was too late. 

Peter didn’t respond, already blocks away. He trudged in the direction of the Columbia University campus, looking for the street that his new home was on. As he entered the apartment, he looked around and remembered all of the help Stiles had given him as they’d looked for his new home, that he and Stiles would be able to cohabitate together, and nearly put his fist through the wall with a roar. The only thing that stopped him was remembering that his daughter and Allison would need to live there too, and neither girl needed to see a daily reminder of Peter’s exceptional low point. 

Stiles knocked on the front door of the apartment, trying to catch his breath. He had run the whole way there, and he wasn’t sure if he was making a horrible mistake, but he was too tired to care. 

Peter slowly opened the door, his eyes flicking dully up at Stiles before he blinked twice in confusion. 

“I should be kicking the crap out of you.” Stiles muttered, pushing Peter backward into the apartment and following him in. He kicked the door shut behind him. “But I think you’d just keep insisting that you did something to deserve it. Can you just quit being fucking stupid, already?” 

Peter opened his mouth, then looked irritated, gesturing with one hand at Stiles. 

“What... oh my _god_.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “I told you to be quiet like, an hour ago. Moron. Talk already.” 

“You gave an order as an alpha.” Peter snapped at him immediately. “As _my_ alpha. I had to listen. You want me to ‘quit being fucking stupid’ now? Fine. The fact of the matter is, I don’t think I’m good enough for you and I’m never going to feel like I’m good enough for you, but I want to be. I want to be everything for you and that’s more than I’ve fucking felt for anyone since the time I spent with Corinne. That’s more than I even felt _for_ Corinne.” He stared at Stiles heatedly for a moment. “I can’t fix myself. Not without help and support, and I’m damaged, but shockingly, I want to be fixed. I want to know that I’ve done every possible fucking thing I can because I love you.”

“You know that’s the first time you’ve said that to me?” Stiles shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders. 

Peter hesitated, looking warily at Stiles as he lifted his chin in the air. It _had_ occurred to him, but he’d been on a roll, and apparently, his daughter came by her motormouth honestly. Now, though, he wasn’t sure what Stiles’ reaction was going to be, and he straightened, taking a single step backward as he said, “Yes…”

“So it takes me threatening to hurt you, and having to yell at you and tell you what to do, to get anywhere?” Stiles snorted. “Do you know how that sounds?” 

Peter grit his teeth. “I’m well aware that I haven’t done anything the ‘normal’ way,” he muttered. 

“Well, I mean, I was going to say that it’s kind of hot.” Stiles shrugged. “But if you want me to tell you you’re weird, I can do that, too.” 

“If you need to - wait, what?” Peter blinked at him, raising his eyes to look at Stiles. “What?”

Stiles smiled, walking toward Peter. “Seriously?” 

Peter stared back at Stiles, slowly coming to terms with what the younger man was saying. A crooked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took a step toward Stiles, and then another. “Don’t ‘seriously’ me. I’m older than you. My hearing’s possibly going bad in another sixty years.”

“And yet you have a thing about being dominated.” Stiles pointed out, laughing. “I don’t care that you’re older. I’ve never cared. Besides, you’re only a few years older than me, mentally. As you’ve managed to prove.” 

“Yes, well. That tends to happen when one’s been burned alive and has then been in a coma for six years.” Peter murmured. 

Stiles’ lips twitched. “Shut up and take off your shirt.” 

Peter’s own lips curled into a smirk. “So bossy. One would think you’re an alpha or something.” He taunted, tugging his shirt cleanly over his head in one motion. 

Stiles put his arms around Peter and kissed him. “I’m tired, but not too tired. I think make-up sex might be kind of awesome. Want to find out?” 

Peter’s arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist, and he lifted the younger man easily, carrying him to the first flat surface he could reach, which happened to be the couch. He kissed Stiles back thoroughly before he pulled back and said, “That’s been a long time dream of mine. I’d love to.”

Stiles unfastened his jeans, lifting his hips to push the denim down from his hips. “You’re going to start going to therapy, like I told you months ago.” He muttered, kissing Peter again. 

“Yes,” Peter murmured in agreement, kissing Stiles back as he slid his fingers over Stiles’ boxers and stroked firmly. “Anything you say.”

Stiles pressed up into Peter’s touch. “This isn’t exactly me keeping the upper hand. But I don’t know that I care.” 

Peter snorted. “You have the upper hand.” He assured him. “You always will. I’d literally do anything you asked of me.” He shifted down the couch, yanking the boxers with him as he went. His eyes glowed as he looked up at Stiles through his lashes. “And some things you haven’t asked.” He added, swooping down and wrapping his mouth around Stiles’ erection. 

Stiles groaned, running his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’ve definitely missed this.” 

“Of course you have,” Peter replied, his voice cocky as he pulled off and smirked. He leaned in to drag his tongue over the head of Stiles’ dick, his fingers grasping the shaft and jerking it loosely. “I know exactly how you like it, obviously.” The tiny drag of teeth over skin, the alternating rough and gentle strokes, the teasing attention he tended to give to every part of the younger man - Peter had missed this, too. 

Stiles was panting underneath Peter in a matter of minutes. “I’m going to come.” He yanked at the hem of his t-shirt, trying to get it out of the way. 

Peter pushed the shirt up until it was tucked under Stiles’ armpits, and he dragged his hand, the tips of his fingers, over Stiles’ skin, lightly tugging on each nipple before tracing indiscriminate paths all over his chest and abdomen. His head bobbed faster, and he sucked harder at Stiles, determined to make him see stars when he came. 

Stiles tilted his head back, groaning as Peter took him apart. He regretted making Peter take his shirt off, now that he wanted to drag him closer. “Come up here.” He said hoarsely, smiling. “I’ll return the favor in a little while, but I just want to lay here with you, first.” 

Peter licked his lips, pressing kisses against Stiles’ hips first before he made his way back up the couch to Stiles’ side. He exhaled and dropped down next to the younger man, wrapping an arm around him and twisting until Stiles was lying on his chest. 

“This week has been the worst.” Stiles murmured. “If I ever try to break up with you again, remind me that it’s a horrible plan.” 

Peter tugged Stiles closer, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck and sighing. “Noted. Terrible week, no break-ups, horrible plan. I’ve got it.” He kissed Stiles’ throat affectionately. 

Stiles smiled, closing his eyes. “I’m glad you came here.” 

“So am I.” Peter agreed quietly. 

“Is there anything else we need to talk about?” Stiles opened his eyes and looked up at Peter. 

Peter tilted his head to look down at him, thinking, before shaking his head. “No. I think we’re okay.”

“In that case...” Stiles moved carefully, determined not to trip as he got up, taking off his shoes and untangling himself from his pant legs, around his ankles. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the pile of clothes before he straddled Peter’s calves and unfastened his pants. 

Peter watched him intently, lifting his hips up to encourage Stiles to pull them down. “You’re exquisite.” He murmured, stroking his hand over Stiles’ thigh and up his hip.

Stiles smiled, undressing Peter the rest of the way before he wrapped a hand around his erection, stroking him roughly. “I’d say ‘same to you,’ but we both know that I don’t talk like that.” 

Peter choked out a laugh, groaning softly and tilting his head back. “I don’t want you to talk like that. I want to hear it the way you would say it.”

“I think you need me to stop being so damned passive.” Stiles mused. “So I’ll try.” 

Peter yanked him down to kiss him, slipping an arm around Stiles’ neck. “Definitely don’t want passive.”

Stiles grinned, kissing Peter again. “What do you want?” 

“You. Your hands, your mouth, your cock.” Peter said firmly. 

Stiles braced his weight on his free hand, lifting himself up so he could go back to stroking his boyfriend’s erection. He moved a moment later, kneeling on the floor beside the couch and sucking eagerly on the head of Peter’s dick. 

“Fuck,” Peter cursed, his back bowing as his mouth fell open. His hand reached out to cup the back of Stiles’ head as he thrust against him lazily. “You’re so goddamn perfect,” He slurred. 

Stiles smiled, taking Peter’s erection all the way into his mouth. 

Peter groaned, his hand tightening in Stiles’ hair. “Sweetheart,” He blurted, and came abruptly, his breath punching out of his chest. 

Stiles swallowed around Peter, pulling back and looking up at him. “When you can move, get up and come lay down in your bedroom. Whichever one that is.” He shrugged. 

“Mm. The biggest one.” Peter murmured, his face slack. His lips twitched. “Obviously.”

Stiles laughed, standing up and wandering around the apartment until he found Peter’s bedroom. He stretched out on the bed, on his back. 

Peter eventually managed to get to his feet, making his way toward his bedroom about ten minutes later. He slinked into the room and dropped down on top of Stiles on the bed, nuzzling and biting lightly at his boyfriend’s throat.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Peter, tilting his head back. “Eventually, I’ll have to go home.” He murmured. “But not yet.” 

Peter nodded. “One day, though, your deal with the kitsune’s father will be up and you won’t have to worry about her. And then you can spend more time here.”

“By the time it’s over, we can go back to Beacon Hills.” Stiles murmured. 

Peter gazed down at him. “I’m keeping the apartment, obviously. But how soon after you graduate do you want to go back?”

“I think that’s kind of too soon to ask?” Stiles shrugged. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with my degree. Maybe I’ll get a job in a museum or something? I mean, I do want to go back to Beacon Hills, but... it’ll depend on everything else.” 

Peter nodded thoughtfully. “Of course.” He murmured. “Well, as I said, I’m going to purchase this place. So whatever you decide you want to do, you’ll have somewhere to call home.”

Stiles lifted his head to kiss Peter again. “I love you.” 

Peter smiled as he kissed Stiles back. “I love you, too.”


	24. The Loss

A few weeks later, Lydia sat across from Derek, eyeing all of the cake samples in front of her. “Gwen’s been enjoying her work at the clinic.” She murmured. “I haven’t told her about any of us, but I’m going to. I’m just waiting for Stiles to meet her, first.” 

“He’s going to give her the runaround.” Derek chuckled quietly, his head tilting to the side as he looked at the samples as well. His stomach rumbled, and he looked a bit embarrassed. His sweet tooth didn’t care, and his stomach growled again. Ignoring it, he said, “I’m glad she’s been doing well. Has Deaton been his typical self around her?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’m just looking forward to the day that Scott takes over and we won’t have to deal with Deaton anymore.” Lydia shook her head and took a bite of a chocolate cake. “This tastes a little too... dry.” She sipped her water, shaking her head. “We should just convince Stiles to make cupcakes for us.” 

“I would love that.” Derek told her honestly, chuckling. He reached over and cut off a small piece of the ‘Bananas Foster’ cake out of sheer curiosity before taking a bite and frowning. “I really should just stick with what I know.”

Lydia laughed. “Raspberry and pink champagne cupcakes, then?” She asked. “Maybe three or four dozen?” 

Derek grinned back at her. “I think we’ve reached an agreement.” He nodded. “And hey, they match the colors you sent me. I’m definitely okay with that.” He reached for her hand, kissing the back of it.

Lydia smiled. “That was the point.” She nodded. “So we’ve got the most important things out of the way, right? Attendants, clothes, Peter’s walking me down the aisle, we’ll have Thanksgiving dinner and cupcakes...” She sent Stiles a text to ask him to make the desserts as she spoke. “And we’re skipping most of the dances that are at traditional receptions, so I think we can overlook music altogether. Anything else?” 

Derek thought for a moment. “Hmm… wedding favors and the photographer?”

“We could just give everyone a camera and a shot glass or something, let them take the pictures for us?” Lydia mused. “I would like to have a professional photographer, I’ll admit, but after seeing so many horror stories about how bad they are, I’d rather just deal with candids.” 

“Good point. I like that it’s more personal that way, anyway. Maybe not everyone is the best at taking pictures, but it’ll mean more than having someone there who isn’t invested in what makes us happy.” Derek folded his hand over hers, thinking quietly. “Have you chosen your bouquet?”

“Not yet.” Lydia smiled. “And we should hire a videographer. That way, our friends can just relax for most of the night.” 

Derek smiled at her. “I like that idea.” He nodded, and then took a deep breath. “Do you think… there would be anyway we could incorporate my mother into the ceremony?” He asked softly. “I don’t know how, and… I know Peter’s already giving you away, but…” He sighed. “I just wish that she was here to see this.”

“I already thought of that.” Lydia said gently, reaching for his hand. “We’ll have a few empty seats, up at the front, for your family. And my grandmother.” 

Derek exhaled shakily and ducked his head to press soft kisses against her hands. “I love you.” He said quietly. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. My mother would have adored you. Everyone else would have, too.”

Lydia smiled. “I love you, too. I think we have everything covered.” 

“And if anything else comes up, I’m sure there will be someone around to remind us.” Derek laughed quietly. 

“And then it’s just a matter of deciding where we’re going on our honeymoon.” Lydia laughed. “How long after we get married do you think it’ll be before someone else does?” 

“At the rate Erica and Boyd are going?” Derek grinned. “Maybe two weeks. A month at the most.”

“I did notice Erica practically taking notes while I was looking at gowns. I’m not sure who she’ll have in her wedding to Boyd, but if they don’t get engaged the day after our ceremony, you can pick where we go on our trip and I won’t say anything negative.” Lydia smiled. 

Derek laughed. “Agreed. Although I probably won’t protest anywhere you want to go if they do.” He looked around, and then stood up, still holding her hand in his. “Think we’re done here, love?”

Lydia nodded and stood up, picking up her purse with her free hand. “It’s strange being here, now. I keep waking up and thinking ‘oh, this isn’t home,’ because I got so used to Boston.” 

Derek hummed in agreement, bending his arm at the elbow and tucking her arm around it with a kiss to her temple. “Same.” He agreed. “Boston’s very easily become home. Beacon Hills will always be home one way or another, but Boston…” he trailed off and shrugged.

“We should probably decide on someone to perform the ceremony, now that I’m thinking about it.” Lydia laughed, face-palming. “We didn’t do that yet.” 

Derek blinked, and then snorted. “Hell, I forgot about that. Definitely can’t get married without someone officiating.” He tilted his head, looking at her. “What do you think? Non-denominational? A priestess?”

“I don’t know. I would like if it was someone in the pack, but I also think none of them are qualified for it.” Lydia shook her head. “You can find someone.” 

“Okay.” Derek murmured. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Lydia put her arms around Derek, kissing him. “I just want everything to go well. And not just for us.” 

Derek wound his arms around her waist, kissing her back before resting his face against her neck and inhaling deeply. “I know, baby.” He murmured. “It will. I promise.” He smiled gently against her neck. “It will all go well, for all of us.”

**

Like he usually did, Stiles had a Friday night pack meeting, seated in the living room of his apartment. He gave Kira a hesitant smile as he started a conference call on Skype. They were getting along pretty well, and he was thinking of asking her to rejoin the pack, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that just yet. He wanted her to get reacquainted with everyone else, first. 

Erica accepted the call and waved wildly at him when it connected, nearly whacking Cora in the face. “Hi, handsome!”

“Hey.” Stiles grinned. “Don’t hit Cora.” He teased. “It’s weird having the pack split up into three different locations, now.” 

Cora bobbed her head. “Yeah, it is.” She agreed. “We got used to all of you in one spot. It’s kind of annoying to remember that you aren’t in town anymore.”

“Well, we will be again, soon.” Lydia murmured. “For Thanksgiving. And the wedding.” 

Derek nodded in agreement. “It won’t be too long.” He murmured. “We really can’t wait to see everyone all in one place, though.”

Kira raised her eyebrows and glanced awkwardly at Stiles. “Everyone?” She repeated. 

Stiles nodded back at her. “Assuming you keep up with the good behavior.” He snorted. “I’m glad you’re doing better than you were. I know that sounds condescending and I don’t really care. Your dad did say you were kind of a mess. At least you’re not like that, now.” 

Kira shrugged. “I mean, I'm trying not to be. It’s kind of hard. But at least I’m familiar with New York.”

“I don’t really know what that has to do with anything.” Stiles smiled. “But sure.” 

Kira’s face reddened as she blushed. “I mean… because I used to live here, and I’m used to the area. I’m comfortable here. So… you know. Familiarity with New York leads to less of a mess?”

“Sounds accurate enough to me.” Stiles looked back at the screen. “So, what are you guys doing for the Fourth?” 

“Getting drunk.” Erica replied automatically, expelling a wheeze when Cora shoved her elbow into Erica’s side. “Ow, fuck!”

Cora smirked, looking smug. “There’s going to be a barbecue - if you can really call it that - at the loft. We’re using the balcony. You should absolutely get mad at Erica because she’s trying to bribe your dad with chunks of fatty meat if he’ll come and grill for us.”

Erica’s eyes bulged and she went pale. “I’m not bribing him into doing shit! Boyd won’t grill, and I don’t know anyone else who knows how to use the fucking thing, but that’s what you do on a holiday, right? In the summer? You grill? The only person I could think of that would know how was the Sheriff!” She glared at Cora.

“He can have the lean cuts of skinless chicken.” Stiles interjected. “Erica, I swear to god, if you don’t listen.” 

“I’ll listen, I’ll listen!” Erica blurted. “It’s not like you and Melissa won’t be here to keep him in check…” She trailed off, furrowing her brows and looking at Stiles hopefully. “Are you going to be here?”

“Um, no? I just got out here and I have a job.” Stiles said gently. “I won’t be back until Thanksgiving.” 

Erica’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, right.” She sighed. “I miss you. We all do.” She paused. “Boyd and Isaac, maybe not so much, but I know they think it’s boring here without you.”

“Boyd and Isaac can suck my dick, only not literally, because Peter would probably kill them.” Stiles grinned. “I keep forgetting that my dad is remarried. That’s crazy, right?” 

Cora snorted. “I mean, everyone else would know more than I would, but yeah, I guess so.” She nodded. “Your dad was single for a long time, right?” Her voice went quiet and respectful. “Since your mother?”

“Yeah. He didn’t even take his wedding ring off until I was a junior.” Stiles murmured. “I think that’s why it’s always been such a big deal to me, you know? Finding that one person. I know everyone can have more than one, but it’s not - it’s not the same thing.” 

“We know.” Lydia nodded. “I think we all know.” 

Derek wrapped his arms around Lydia, smiling gently down at her before he looked up at Stiles. “How are things going in the city?” He asked. “Find any rare books?”

“How’s our new apartment?” Allison called. “I know you’ve been there!”

“The city is great.” Stiles smiled. “And I work in a bookstore, but I haven’t seen anything rare yet. It’s all Fifty Shades and crap like that, honestly. I don’t even have to deal with customers. I stock shelves at night, like a gremlin.” He laughed. “And Ally? The apartment is nice. Why aren’t you out here yet, though?” 

Allison grumbled. “Because my dad wanted me to wait until ticket prices went down, but then I waited too long. Mal and I will be out there early next week, though, I promise.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded. “Just let me know when, and I’ll meet you guys at the airport.” 

Allison smiled at him. “Absolutely. It’s flight forty-three-seventy-two out of San Francisco, and it’s due at JFK around five-fifteen at night on Tuesday.”

“And the lottery numbers for the week are six, nineteen, twenty-three...” Lydia teased. “Allison, just text him.” 

Allison snorted, but looked sheepishly back at Lydia. “Fine, yes, that would’ve been smarter.” She agreed, and then looked down at her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen.

“Anyway.” Erica stared at Allison for a moment, grinning and shaking her head. She looked back at Stiles, grinning slyly. “How’re things with Peter?” She drawled playfully.

“Sweaty.” Stiles said casually, laughing. 

“Can you at least pretend you have some class?” Lydia muttered, shaking her head. 

“Sure, I’ll do that in September.” Stiles grinned. 

Kira let out a noise that was a cross between a snort and a giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Derek put a hand over his eyes, laughing quietly. “Cute.”

“In all seriousness?” Stiles murmured. “He, uh, finally told me that he loves me. So that was a big deal. And I’m making him go to therapy. It seems like he might actually listen to me about that, this time.” 

Derek’s eyes softened. “Good, I’m glad.” He murmured.

Cora nodded in approval. “Seriously - this is a good thing. I mean, really, Derek and I are fucked up, but I mean… Peter definitely had it worse, I think.” She looked at her older brother, shrugging a shoulder. “At least I managed to find a pack to take care of me.” She added softly, and then looked apologetic when Derek flinched. “Sorry.”

Derek smiled tightly. “It’s alright.” He murmured. Looking back at Stiles, he leaned forward. “Tell him if he needs absolutely anything, I’m there for him. Boston isn’t that far from New York City - I can be there in a heartbeat.”

“I think he knows, but I’ll tell him anyway.” Stiles agreed. 

“Thank you.” Derek murmured.

“Well, now that Derek’s all mopey and shit…” Jackson drawled, and then put his thumb up at Cora. “Good job, by the way.”

Cora scowled. “Shut the hell up, pretty boy.”

Jackson grinned. “Anyway… uh, I’ve got a job? It’s not much, I’m just shadowing an accountant, pretty much. But I mean… it’s something, right? I’ll be doing all of your taxes at some point.” He paused. “I promise I won’t fuck you all over.”

“That’s awesome, though!” Stiles grinned. “Congratulations, Jackson.” 

Jackson ducked his head, grinning. “Thanks.” He murmured.

Erica leaned forward to look at him. “Congratulations,” she added, nodding. “Do you think you’re gonna own your own, like… company or something?”

“If I feel like it.” Jackson shrugged. “Not sure yet. Although I could probably make a pretty good name for myself if we move back to Beacon Hills and I open a place in the middle of town. Word of mouth and everything, I could probably have a monopoly on everything in Northern California.” His eyes glinted a little in excitement.

“Everything that isn’t forest, anyway.” Scott commented, his lips twitching.

“We’re going to end up owning the entire town.” Stiles laughed. “Well, most of us. I don’t know how a degree in medieval studies is going to help me with that.” 

“You could build a castle.” Scott suggested, grinning. “Or, Derek could build the castle, and you could decorate it accordingly, the way they would have if these were medieval times.” He trailed off, his eyes lighting up as another thought occurred to him. “ _Or_... You can open a museum or something. Or take over the museum?” His face scrunched up. “Wait, does Beacon Hills even have a museum?”

“Scott, go to sleep.” Erica ordered.

Lydia giggled. “I second that.” 

“Thirded!” Allison called, laughing.

“Motion passed.” Jackson snorted. 

Scott looked sulky, his lower lip jutting out. “Oh, come on.” He whined. 

“Dude, we can practically see the gears slowing down in your head right now.” Cora told him frankly. “You’re exhausted. Go to sleep.”

“I think they’re right.” Stiles nodded. “You’ve probably got jet lag.” 

“I didn’t think that was actually a thing.” Scott confessed, looking bleary-eyed. “Or at the very least, I didn’t think it would affect me as a werewolf.”

“It affects us the worst.” Derek murmured, looking amused but sympathetic. “It’s okay, Scott. You need to recharge, that’s all.”

Scott nodded slowly, sighing. “Alright. I guess that means I’m done for the night.” He smiled crookedly. “I miss you guys already,” he told the Beacon Hills contingent. “And I still miss you guys,” he added, directing his words to the Boston group. To Stiles, he grinned. “I’ll come harass you soon.”

Stiles laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “And the rest of you, I’ll see at some point or another. I have to go to work.” He turned his head to look at Kira. “You can keep talking if you want to, though.” 

Kira looked back at him uncertainly, opening her mouth. “I, uh… Um. That’s - okay?” She said hesitantly. “I mean - not that - I don’t mean I’m not okay with it, I meant - okay, as in… okay.” She scrunched up her nose, and then sighed. “The awkwardness is back.” She muttered under her breath.

Stiles was in a great mood, so he leaned over to hug Kira. “You’re going to be fine.” He said gently. “Just don’t insult anybody. And don’t ask questions that seem pointed.” He stood up. “Oh, and don’t chew with your mouth open, because apparently, that’s just gross.” 

“It is!” Lydia called out. “You do it all the time, Stiles. I’m sick of seeing mashed-up Corn Flakes.” 

Kira let out a laugh. “That _is_ pretty gross.” She nodded in agreement.

“You want me to bring you a doughnut, tomorrow morning?” Stiles smirked at Kira. “Shut up.” 

Kira stuck her tongue out at him. “Never!”

Stiles laughed. “I have to go, seriously. Have a good night.” He waved to her, then left the apartment. 

Kira turned back to the computer after waving at Stiles, then sat down, looking nervous. “So… how are things with you guys?”

“Really good.” Lydia smiled. “All of our wedding plans are done, so all we have to do is go back to Beacon Hills in November, pick things up and and get married.” 

Kira smiled back at her widely, looking genuinely delighted. “That’s great!” She told her. “I’m really glad for you two.”

“Thanks!” Lydia leaned against Derek. “You should definitely come to the wedding. I mean, unless you have plans with your family?” 

Kira’s lips parted in surprise, and she blurted, “No.”

Derek paused, glancing at her in confusion. “Well… okay, you don’t have to, that’s fine -”

“Oh! No, I mean - I don’t have any plans, I’m sorry. No, I can totally come. I’d love to come! I’ll totally be there.”

Lydia glanced at Derek, confident in the fact that she wouldn't have to say anything to him, that she could just make eye contact and he would understand what she was thinking. She wanted to make up for past mistakes and the way that she had encouraged everyone else to force Kira out of the pack. In the end, it had been the kitsune’s decision to leave, but Lydia knew she hadn’t made it easy on her. 

Derek took Lydia’s hand, looking back at her. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles gently before turning back to the screen. “Kira, we’d love to have you at our wedding.” He told her. 

Kira beamed at them both. “Thank you.” She blurted, nodding rapidly. “I’ll - I’ll make plans right now. To be there.”

“Maybe we should take the train and fly back with the rest of you.” Lydia suggested. “Assuming we can all be on the same flight, anyway.” 

“I’m sure we can.” Kira nodded. “I’ll look into train schedules for you, if you want? And - and flights out. With multiple stops!”

“Maybe not multiple stops.” Lydia mused. “A transfer in Chicago would be all right, though.” 

“Transfer in Chicago it is, then,” Kira declared cheerfully.

Derek looked amused, but smiled at the kitsune’s obvious excitement. “Thank you, Kira.” He told her. “We appreciate this a lot.”

Kira waved a hand, grinning. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me, seriously. I’m really thrilled about this, I’m so happy to do it.”

“Have you decided on a major?” Lydia asked, smiling. “What classes are you taking, this fall?” 

Kira smiled back, looking shy. “Oh, I - I haven’t really decided on a major yet, but I’m taking an anthropology class, an Asian American studies class - I figured, why not, since… you know, I actually _am_ Asian American. I thought my dad and mom might have some perspective on things that I could actually use in class and, um, not in… you know, deadly situations where we may or may not survive? Anyway, I’m also taking Computer Science, History of the Ancient Greeks, Spanish, and Psychology. I’m saving math classes and other science classes, like Physics or Chemistry, for next semester. I just really wanted to take classes that interested me a bit before I really buckled down and started taking the classes I was absolutely positive I needed.”

“Is Stiles taking any of the same classes as you? It would be easy on both of you to be able to study together, wouldn’t it?” Lydia reached for Derek’s hand. 

Derek gently squeezed her hand, smiling softly at her. 

“Psychology,” Kira nodded. “It’s the only class we have together, really. But I’m beyond relieved we at least have that one together. I’m still probably going to be asking for his help in some of my other classes.” She tilted her head. “Except Spanish. Or maybe especially Spanish? I know Scott wasn’t the best speaker.”

Erica snorted. “You’d think he would be better at it, considering his mom’s fluent.”

“Let’s not bash our friends, especially when they aren’t here to defend themselves.” Lydia shook her head. “Scott is intelligent, he’s just not necessarily academically intelligent. He’s great at taking care of animals, and that’s what he wants to do with his life. It’s not like he’s trying to have a singing career by auditioning for American Idol.” 

Erica tilted her head, grimacing apologetically. “Good point. And yeah, I know he’s smart. I mean, he definitely knows more Spanish than I do. Sorry.”

Lydia shrugged one shoulder. “Stiles isn’t terrible with foreign languages. He’ll be good help with Spanish.” 

Kira looked relieved. “Oh, good. Thank you so much for telling me. I’ll text him and ask him for help.” She paused. “Or maybe I should wait until he gets home from work.”

“Or you could wait until your class actually starts, two months from now.” Lydia laughed. Her expression changed and she gripped Derek’s hand tightly, standing up. “We have to - Erica, something is wrong.” 

Erica looked at her sharply. “What do you -“ She looked at Cora. “Call around. See what’s going on with Corey, Mason, and Liam, have them get in touch with Tracy, then have Hayden get in touch with her sister and Yates, okay?” She leaned forward, looking into the monitor worriedly. “Jackson, is Danny okay? Do you know where he is?”

Jackson looked worried, but nodded. “As far as I know, he’s fine.”

“It’s not here, it’s in Beacon Hills, whatever it is.” Lydia muttered. “I’m calling Stiles and we’re all flying back there.” 

“Don’t.” Theo called out. “I’m not trying to sound like an ass, but how is having more cannon fodder going to help fix whatever’s going on?” 

Derek frowned deeply, studying Theo for a moment. He directed his gaze toward his sister. “Do what Erica says. Get information, as fast as you can.”

Cora nodded sharply, and then looked at Erica and Lydia. “I’ll get information back to you as soon as possible.” She walked away, raising her phone to her ear. 

“I’m disconnecting.” Lydia rubbed her forehead. “I need aspirin and I need to rest. My head won’t stop pounding.” She shook her head, ending the call. 

**

The first thing Stiles did, after he got back to New York, was get into a cab with Scott. He still felt sick at the idea that three of his pack members, one of them human, had died. The past month had been spent tracking leads and getting nowhere. And by nowhere, he meant that there was no threat he could set on fire. The three women - Tracy, Valerie and Marion - had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time; there was nothing and no one who wanted them dead. Still, despite the mixed feelings of relief and irritation, he didn’t want to go home and he didn’t want to drag Peter down with him, into the bad mood he was in. So instead, he was sticking close to his best friend and not saying anything more than what was necessary. 

Scott rubbed a hand over Stiles’ back gently. “I know things are shit right now, man.” He sighed. “But maybe Minerva will be home when we get inside. You’ll like her, I think.” He paused. “Uh. I realize that one thing doesn’t make everything better. I just… I don’t know what to say. I just wanna see you be okay. Even if it’s just for a minute, you know?”

“If you’re trying to get me to replace the people we just lost, that’s kind of shitty.” Stiles murmured, glancing at Scott. “But I know you wouldn’t do that, anyway. So yeah, I can at least be nice and say hi.” 

Scott’s eyes softened, and he slung his arms around Stiles, sighing quietly. “She’s a great person, really. She definitely doesn’t replace anyone we lost, but she makes me smile, at least. I’m hoping she can do the same for you.”

Stiles nodded. When the cab stopped in front of Scott’s building, Stiles got out with him and followed him to his apartment. 

The door opened, and a girl with multi-colored hair practically leaped at Scott, hugging him. “I have cookies. Come on.” 

Scott laughed softly, hugging her back. “Chocolate chunk?” He asked hopefully, and then patted her upper arm. “Minnie, this is my best friend and brother, Stiles.” He looked at Stiles and smiled. “Stiles, this is Minerva. Minnie for short because I’m too lazy to say three syllables.”

“And because I’m short and I told him that everyone else calls me Minnie, anyway. Although, I’m pretty sure they mean it as the four letter word _for_ short, so whatever.” Minerva laughed. “And yes, all kinds of cookies.” She guided Scott toward the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Stiles was following. “Can you get the door? Thanks. “

Stiles didn’t realize he was laughing, at first. It seemed strange to make a joyful sound when he felt like his elbow was missing, like part of him was just gone. But he shut and locked the door, then went into the kitchen. “Did you bake these?” 

“No, I can’t cook anything.” Minerva grinned proudly. “I can make drinks, though. As soon as I’m old enough, I’m getting a job as a bartender.” 

Scott nodded fervently, already stuffing his mouth full with a chocolate chip cookie. “Dude, her mixed drinks are amazing. Like… I don’t even know that I’m chugging alcohol half the time.”

“How old are you?” Stiles frowned as soon as the words left his mouth. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m not exactly... uh, good with people right now. Or ever?” 

“It’s okay.” The girl shrugged. “I’m seventeen. But I graduated high school early.” 

“Nothing wrong with that, our friend Lydia did, too. And Danny.” Stiles nodded. 

“Yeah, so I’m going to be a sophomore, this fall. Autumn.” Minerva laughed. “I’m trying to break myself of some bad verbal habits and also...” She turned suddenly, smacking Scott’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me that your friend is a dragon.” 

Scott blinked rapidly, a cookie half out of his mouth. He stared at her without reacting to her slap. “I… huh? How did you - but you… huh?”

“I second that ‘huh’.” Stiles nodded. 

Minerva looked back and forth between them, then stayed silent as she got three glasses out of the cabinet, filling each one halfway with rum. She glanced over her shoulder at the fridge, then shook her head at herself and downed the alcohol without adding anything to it. “How do you not know you’re a dragon?!” She demanded, staring at Stiles. 

“What?” Stiles felt even more confused. “No, I mean, I know I’m a dragon, I just don’t know how you know that.” 

“We haven’t told anyone except for our families since we found out.” Scott explained. “We thought we needed to keep it a secret.”

Stiles stared at Scott, then looked back at Minerva. “Actually, our whole town knows. We just never outright confirmed it, but they’re not stupid.” 

“Scott, drink your rum and go take a nap.” Minerva murmured. “I have a feeling this is going to take a while. Anyway, I’m a dragon, too. Ice.” She pushed her sleeves up as light blue scales appeared over her arms, then faded away again. “That’s why I can’t cook. But drinks, especially cold ones? I’m great at those. And I worked at an ice cream parlor during high school. I’m guessing you don’t know any other dragons and you don’t know how a lot of things work. You seem like a whelpling, anyway.” 

Stiles grinned. “My boyfriend does call me that, yeah.” 

“Dragon?” Minerva asked. 

“Werewolf.” Stiles corrected. 

Scott obediently took a drink of the rum Minerva had poured for him, furrowing his brow. 

“How did you know, though?” Stiles sat down, looking across the table at her. 

“I can’t believe you don’t know anything.” Minerva sighed. “Okay. You can see what someone is, if you pay enough attention. Practically everyone in this city is something other than your typical human being. You just have to know what to look for.” She glanced at Scott. “The first thing he does when he walks into a room is breathe in through his nose. He always sits in the same spot on the couch, and he kind of wriggles whenever he sits down, anywhere. You’ve never paid attention?” 

“No, I have, I just figured that was a Scott thing, not a werewolf thing.” Stiles blinked. “But now that I’m thinking about it, all of the werewolves do it. And a werecoyote, too. But not the kitsune.” 

“Foxes aren’t really pack animals, either.” Minerva pointed out. “And neither are dragons. So how the hell are you in a pack?” 

“Necessity.” Stiles smiled. 

Scott blinked languidly at her and smiled at her, draping his arm around Stiles. “He’s our alpha.” He told her proudly, bobbing his head. 

“Scott was the alpha.” Stiles added. “And he’s still an alpha, just not the one in charge, because that’s me. We had a lot of problems with people hunting teenagers for various reasons, and Scott’s a firm believer in rehabilitation of criminals. I’m actually not. So we find someone who’s actively killing our kind and we eliminate the threat.” 

Scott nodded again. “That’s why I usually don’t get involved in the decision making.” He admitted, looking nervous. “I’ve… uh, made some bad decisions. It nearly cost us some people. Stiles is more logical about this stuff, anyway.” He looked over at his stepbrother. “He’s a damn good alpha. He’s amazing.”

“It’s just not the most common thing. Dragons are loners.” Minerva explained. “I mean, we know of each other out here, but we don’t really spend time in groups.” 

Stiles listened as Minerva explained a few things about dragons, but he stopped her and turned on a recording app on his phone, then told her to start over. “I’m not going to tell anyone else about this, I just know I’ll forget something or probably tune you out at some point. It’s nothing personal, it’s just... We were at three funerals in the past couple of weeks.” 

Scott nodded a third time, sighing. “It’s been rough.” He mumbled. He looked up at her and gave her a small, crooked smile. “Seeing you helps a lot, though. So… you know, thanks for that.” He teased gently. 

“He has a girlfriend.” Stiles blurted, giving Scott a confused look. 

“I’m not even interested in anyone, anyway. Besides, if I ever want kids, I can just reproduce asexually. Which I’m guessing is another thing you didn’t know. God, you’re so not prepared for anything.” 

Scott looked back at Stiles with wide eyes. “I’m not flirting with her!” He blurted out. “She’s like my sister, dude. Like, the sister I’ve never had. I wouldn’t do anything like that to Hayden…” he trailed off and then stared between Stiles and Minerva as his brain caught up with the rest of what his roommate had said. “Reproduce… asexually. You can do that?” His hand waved in Stiles’ direction. “ _He_ can do that?”

“All dragons can do that.” Minerva nodded. “Even the boy dragons. I was raised by my dad. I don’t even have a biological mom.” 

“But I wasn’t born a dragon, I became one.” Stiles grimaced. “I mean, I think so? I did kind of act... differently from other people. Before.” 

“You should ask your parents about it.” Minerva suggested. “But do you look like your dad or your mom?” 

“My mom. But she died when I was little. I don’t really look like my dad at all.” Stiles looked terrified, giving the female dragon a grateful smile when she refilled his glass, so he could drink a little more. “Does that mean my dad isn’t even my dad?” 

“If he raised you, he’s your dad.” Minerva rolled her eyes. “Your whole worldview is kinda screwy right now, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles looked over at Scott. “This is either the best or worst conversation of my life. Ask me how I feel about it in six months.” 

Scott rubbed Stiles’ shoulder affectionately. “I’ll put it on my calendar.” He promised, nodding. He turned his head to look at Minerva. “So your dad is kind of your mom, too, basically? In that he carried you? Wait, did he carry you?” A stumped expression appeared on his face. “I’m so sorry, Minnie, this is gonna sound so rude - how the hell were you born?”

Minerva laughed. “Hatched. See, I know it sounds weird to other people, but he molted first, and then he stayed shifted for a couple of months. In that amount of time, there was an egg and then there was me.” 

“Okay, but was it a conscious decision, or did he just do all of this and then it was like, ‘holy shit, I laid an egg,’ or what?” Stiles demanded, laughing. “Did he know?” 

“He knew.” Minerva nodded. 

Stiles sat back, a dazed look on his face. “Wow.” 

Scott was shaking his head, astonished. “That’s incredible.” He murmured, looking at Minerva with a new sort of awe. He huffed a small, soft laugh and looked at Stiles. “Do you know what this means?” He blurted.

“It means I can have kids. All by myself.” Stiles murmured, smiling. 

Scott beamed at him, and then tackled him in a hug. “Dude!”


	25. The Win

**November 2, 2016**

_Before I meet my one true love,_

_1\. I will finish college._  
~~2\. I will take a walk around the world.~~  
3\. There will be a solar eclipse.  
4\. The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series.  
~~5\. I will be invited to join the CIA.~~  
~~6\. I will see the Mets play twenty home games.~~  
~~7\. I will molt once more.~~  
~~8\. Five people will give me something I didn't know I needed.~~  
~~9\. My pack will have twenty people or more in it.~~

Stiles felt nervous as he stared at the tv screen in Peter’s apartment. Even though they were happy, even though he wouldn’t ever say it out loud, even though he knew he could have a kid whenever he damned well felt like it, without needing Peter’s consideration... Stiles still wouldn’t let himself forget that Peter wasn’t his one true love. They had met too soon, a fact that he cried about once in awhile, but never where anyone else could hear (and if Kira did hear it, she wisely said nothing). The Cubs were ‘cursed’ and so was he, and they had made it through six of the seven World Series games. He felt like everything in his life hinged on whether or not they were going to win. 

Peter’s hand found its way around Stiles’ as he anxiously watched the tv. Breathing out steadily, he looked at his boyfriend, then raised Stiles’ hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “It’ll work out.” He promised quietly. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

“Well, this is it.” Stiles glanced over at Malia, smiling when the coyote sat on his other side and held out a bowl of nachos. “Thanks.” He murmured. 

“No problem, Dad.” Malia said casually. She had been calling him that for the past year, she didn’t see a reason to stop now. 

Stiles’ gaze immediately went back to the tv, and he put his chin down on Peter’s shoulder. “No matter what happens, I'm drinking when this is over.” 

Peter brushed his lips against Stiles’ temple. “I’m sure Minerva would be more than happy to mix something up for you.” He murmured, sliding his arm around Stiles firmly. He took a deep breath, staring anxiously at the screen once more.

Allison sat down beside Malia, tucking her legs beneath her and leaning against the other woman. She looked at Malia, then leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “Let’s go, Cubs,” she breathed out.

“Mouse!” Stiles called out, giving the ice dragon a grateful smile when she handed him a cold beer. Over the past few years, they had become like siblings. He had the same sort of relationship with Allison and Scott, and he thought it was a little bit hilarious that he kept accruing non-biological siblings. 

Malia kissed Allison, wriggling a little to get comfortable on the couch. “We should get married. Tomorrow. Just because.” 

Allison tilted her head at Malia, looking surprised. She smiled a moment later. “Okay.” She murmured, and kissed her again. “I’m taking your name.”

Malia beamed. “Good. I like that idea.” 

“I call best man,” Scott called, and then frowned. “... of honor.”

“I’m for it.” Stiles nodded. “I’m going to have a hangover. But I’ll still show up.” 

Allison grinned. “Good, because I want you to give me away. I mean, Dad’s not here, obviously.” Her eyes glinted playfully at him. “It’ll be really simple, Stiles, you just have to walk with me until I get to Malia, and then you can sit down and have Peter drain your owwies.”

Stiles smiled at Allison, leaning across Malia to hug her. “I’m honored.” He blurted. “Yes, I’ll do that.” 

Allison squealed, hugging him back tightly. “Oh, thank god, I’m so glad,” she exclaimed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey.” Peter waved a hand in the air at her. “What, you have no role for me? The father of the other bride?”

Scott squinted at him. “I mean, you’d walk Malia down the aisle, wouldn’t you?”

Peter stared at Scott, and then looked at Malia with a raised eyebrow. “Daughter-of-mine?”

“Yeah, might as well.” Malia said, straight-faced, then laughed. “Yes, I want you to be there.” 

“Thank you.” Peter snorted, roping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

Kira waved her hands around, pointing at the tv. “Shh! I don’t know what’s going on, but a thing is happening and we need to watch!”

“Kira, we’re talking about people getting married, you can’t just - _what the hell was that_?!” Stiles yelled. “A tie?!” The score was six to six and it was the top of the ninth inning. He put his hands over his face, horrified. 

“Oh my god,” Allison breathed out, her own hands going over her mouth a second later. “What the fuck is going on, what the fuck is happening right now?”

“A tie.” Stiles repeated, his voice muffled by his hands over his face. 

Peter let out a low frustrated growl. “Goddammit.” He muttered. “And now it’s raining.”

Stiles sent a text to Jackson, shaking his head. ‘Are you seeing this shit?’ He sat up, eyeing the tv. “Okay, everybody should go pee now, because once they start the game again, nobody is allowed to move. Or talk.” 

Allison scrambled off the couch and ran into the bathroom immediately.

Scott blew out a breath, lowering his forehead to his knees. “This is freaking ridiculous.” 

‘I’m seeing it. I’m not happy about it.’ Jackson texted back. ‘Derek punched a hole in my wall, he’s so pissed. I’ve extracted a promise from him to fix it.’

‘I’m surprised Lydia didn’t threaten to end him.’ Stiles remarked, amused. “Derek punched a wall.” He glanced at Peter. 

Peter grinned. “That’s about right.” He nodded. “We Hales are prone to destructive tendencies.”

Allison made her way back into the living room. “Bathroom’s free!”

“You mean like the time you threw your phone into traffic?” Scott raised his head and stared at Peter.

“Yes.” Peter nodded. He waved his phone in the air. “But it worked out well enough. I’ve got a new phone, and I’ve got a Stiles.” He kissed his boyfriend’s hair.

“It worked out because I told Derek to tell you to stop fucking around and come talk to me.” Stiles scoffed. “You’re lucky I’m an indecisive son of a bitch.” 

“I’m lucky, period.” Peter’s lips twitched as he smiled down at Stiles. “But yes, that’s also why it worked out and why I’m lucky.”

Scott ran into the bathroom, calling out, “If you’re gonna make out, do it while I’m in the bathroom!”

“We don’t have that kind of time!” Stiles yelled back. “And also, everyone we know in New York is here.” 

Hayden sat beside Minerva, shaking her head. “I married a dork.” 

“Oh, Hayden.” Allison smiled gently. “We all knew that.”

“Well, I did, too.” Hayden murmured. “It’s just that sometimes, I forget.” 

“Is now a bad time to tell you guys that I’m moving into the house in Boston when almost everyone else moves out?” Stiles glanced around. “As it turns out, I’m not as done with college as I thought I would be. I’m going to law school. At Harvard.” 

“I think we all kind of figured that out when you started grilling everybody who lives there on how much the water bill is.” Minerva shook her head, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re worried about that.” 

Scott skidded back into the room and dropped down in front of the couch, snuggling up to Hayden. “Were you thinking everyone was going to be angry because you’re not immediately going back to Beacon Hills?” He asked Stiles. “Because I, for one, am not. I think it’s awesome, and I think you’d make an awesome lawyer.”

Kira tossed Stiles an enormous smile and stuck both of her thumbs up at him. “I think it’s fantastic.” She agreed, nodding.

“You have to promise not to be surprised or annoyed when we drop by for unannounced visits.” Allison told him, smiling.

“I absolutely promise.” Stiles agreed, grinning. He glanced at the tv, confirming that the game hadn’t resumed yet, before he spoke again. “I guess I sort of had it in my head, before Jackson ever started college, that he’d be a lawyer. And that made sense to me. But when he went a different way, I started thinking about why it was such a big deal to me, to have a lawyer in our group. And I like knowing all of the laws, I like being able to use them to my advantage. I don’t like being bound by the same kind of rules that my dad has to follow. I don’t like the idea of guns. I know I’m not the biggest advocate for nonviolence, but it’s only ever been defense, even when there wasn’t an immediate threat to deal with. Being a lawyer feels like the right thing to do. And by the time I’m ready to graduate, the betas will be, too. So it’s like we can all close this chapter of our lives at the same time.” 

Peter ran a hand down Stiles’ back, gazing at the younger man. “I think what you’re planning to do is brilliant.” He murmured. “And obviously, we support you. Your idea of justice is one that we need, one that everyone needs, and if anyone could be a lawyer, could save people through the legal system in ways that count, it would be you.” He paused. “Not that I’m discrediting your father, mind you. But without having his hands tied, your father could have accomplished much more - and I know that without having your hands tied by the same rules, you very much will. You’ll go above and beyond, and you’ll be incredible.”

Stiles stared at Peter, wondering how someone who knew him so well could still get things so monumentally wrong. He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and glanced up to see Minerva, standing behind the couch. “Yeah?” 

“After the wedding tomorrow, I need to talk to you.” Minerva murmured. “It’s going to be okay.” 

Stiles smiled at her. “Yeah. Uh, maybe we can go for a walk or whatever?” He suggested. He got up to use the bathroom, sitting back down just in time to see the game resume. “Oh my god.” He muttered, taking a deep breath. ‘Game’s back on.’ He sent the text to Jackson and his dad, practically bouncing on the couch, he was so nervous. 

Peter leaned forward in his seat, his hands folded over his mouth.

Allison clutched Malia’s hand tightly, her gaze locked on the tv.

‘Go Cubs,’ John replied to Stiles’ text. ‘They’ve got this.’

‘Got it.’ Jackson’s text came right after. ‘We’re not budging until the whole game’s over.’

‘Same. I called a bathroom break during the rain delay.’ Stiles replied to Jackson. He practically threw his phone a few seconds later, as the Cubs batter got a hit and brought the score up, seven to six. “Holy shit.” He grinned. He reached for Peter’s hand, his eyes wide. And then the score was eight to six. He stayed silent after that, not daring to speak as the score changed again. It was eight to seven, and the bottom of the tenth inning, when the game ended. He could barely hear anything around him over his own triumphant yell as he got to his feet, his arms raised. “Yes!” 

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Scott screamed, jumping to his feet and lunging at Stiles. “Oh my _god_ , they did it!”

Peter couldn’t keep the smile from crossing his face, shaking his head and laughing. “This is incredible,” he murmured, gazing at Stiles.

“This is _phenomenal_!” Allison squealed.

Stiles hugged Scott. “Dude. There are only two things left on my list!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He had promised himself, since the day he and Peter got back together, that talking about the list was off-limits. Suddenly, his great mood was gone and he was afraid to turn around and look at his lover. 

Peter’s smile was stilted, and he exhaled slowly as he stared at Stiles’ back. “This is good.” He said quietly. “When the last two things are accomplished… well, at least it’s a weight off your shoulders.” He looked around the room, rubbing at his chin. “Excuse me.” He murmured. “I’m just going to…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the hallway that led to his bedroom, then smiled again before turning and walking away.

“Fuck.” Stiles muttered. “I think I need to go home.” He looked at Allison, then hugged her. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Just text me a time?” 

Allison hugged him back tightly, nodding. “Of course.” She agreed. She glanced down the hallway after Peter, then shook her head, looking back at Stiles. “Be early. Okay? And, um… make sure that everyone is aware oh my _god_ I have to call Lydia.” She blurted, her eyes going wide. She got up onto the tips of her toes and kissed Stiles’ cheek, waving her hands. “I’m getting on the phone with her, I’ll see you tomorrow, love you, you’re the bestest alpha ever to alpha!” She called to him as she ran toward the room she shared with Malia.

Stiles ruffled Malia’s hair, ignoring her perturbed growl, then turned toward everyone else. “Are you guys ready to go?” 

“Yep.” Minerva nodded. 

Scott stretched. “Let’s go!” He agreed, nodding as well. He wrapped an arm around his wife, kissing her cheek with a smile.

Peter walked back out of his bedroom, looking at them with raised eyebrows. “You’re leaving?” He asked, glancing at Stiles.

“I kind of thought that was what people did when they said something fucking dumb.” Stiles muttered, embarrassed. 

Peter studied him quietly, and then sighed. “They do, and they can, but I hope ‘they’ are also aware that it’s something that still lingers in my mind, too.” He murmured. “It - frankly - sucks, but… it means the spell’s almost at completion.” He cleared his throat and shrugged. “And if it’s bothered you like it’s bothered me…” He trailed off, and then shook his head, smiling faintly. “Well, I plan to cling to you like a limpet, regardless of what happens.”

Stiles moved toward Peter, kissing him. “I figured it went without saying that when I go to Boston, you’ll come too?” 

Peter kissed him back firmly. “You will _never_ get rid of me.” He promised Stiles, grinning crookedly. “I’m already looking at bookstores to frequent, and other bookstores to scorn.”

“I love you.” Stiles murmured. “And I’m gonna go home now, to sleep and get one of the outfits I’ve worn to somebody else’s wedding in these past few years, and mix and match shit so it doesn’t look like the exact same outfit, in pictures. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

**

The next morning, Stiles practically snarled as he opened the door, but he immediately shut up at the sight of Lydia, who was clutching a shopping bag and didn’t look the least bit impressed with him. “I bought you a tie and a different shirt. You can still wear whatever suit you want, as long as it’s navy blue.” 

Stiles laughed and stepped back to let her in. “How did you manage to go shopping and get here on time?” 

“You think you’re the only person with skills?” Lydia scoffed. “I made a few phone calls and had someone pick up a few things for me, as soon as the stores opened. I picked them up as soon as I got into the city. It’s ten o’clock and you have just enough time to shower, use some mouthwash to cover that beer scent in your mouth, and get dressed.” 

“And then you get your very own temporary chauffeur,” Derek added, smiling crookedly at Stiles as he entered behind his wife. “I wasn’t going to miss this.”

“Jackson and Theo are helping everyone over at Peter’s.” Lydia added. “We’ve already been to Scott’s, but Minerva took the bag and shut the door in my face. She said you need more help than Scott will. I think she made the right call.” 

Derek clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Let’s get you ready for a wedding.” 

“Uh, considering that involves me taking a shower... I mean, you can make me coffee or talk to me while I wash my hair?” Stiles shrugged. “I really won’t take long.” 

“Fair enough.” Derek replied. “I mean, my presence here is mostly to yell encouragement at you to hurry the hell up, so that sounds fine.”

Stiles laughed and saluted Derek, then went into the bedroom to grab a few things. He carried his shampoo and soap into the bathroom, getting undressed and into the shower. Thanks to the lessons he’d been taking from Mouse for the last few years, he could smell coffee in the kitchen and it made him smile. “I bet Lydia’s glad she didn’t make you move back to Beacon Hills already. She wouldn’t have made it here in time.” 

“She would’ve found a way.” Derek grinned. “I have the utmost faith in her. Besides, when Allison called, sounding as frantic as she did, we both started to rush. Starting to wonder if I should look into getting a small, private plane.” He tilted his head. “Or learn how to fly one.”

“That would save us all a lot of trouble. But it would need at least fifty seats.” Stiles mused. “By the time we’re all done having kids, there will be at least that many of us.” He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and shut the water off, then got out of the shower and started towel-drying himself. “I mean, there’s about eleven couples now, and if each couple has three kids, that’s... uh...” 

“Eleven couples times three kids is thirty-three kids, plus another twenty-two parents. That’s fifty-five.” Lydia called out through the door. “I have chocolate hazelnut coffee.” 

Stiles didn’t bother covering himself for modesty as he opened the door and took the coffee from her. “Thanks.” 

“Stop doing math that you can’t even do and go get dressed.” Lydia ordered, grinning as her gaze went to her husband. “ _Somebody_ thinks we’re going to have three kids.” 

“Somebody thinks he wants three kids.” Stiles called over his shoulder as he went into his bedroom to get dressed. “I’m guessing Kira’s already up and moving around?” 

“She was at Scott’s.” Lydia laughed. 

Derek looked a little sulky, his arms folded across his chest. “It was just for symmetry, you know.” He protested. “My mom was one of three, I’m one of three, it made sense to me.” He made a face at Lydia, but his lips were twitching in amusement, fully aware he was being ridiculous. 

“I meant that I want three.” Stiles buttoned his shirt as he spoke, leaning in the doorway of his bedroom. “Apparently, I can have a clutch of seven? That’s a little scary. Seven baby dragons. It also would’ve been great if my mom had told me that I was a dragon, in the first place. Anyway, too late to be annoyed with her for that.”

“Do you think she even knew?” Derek asked him curiously, wrapping an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. He was silent for a beat. “Maybe she did know, and she was going to tell you once you were at a certain age.” He rubbed at his chin. “Seven baby dragons,” he repeated, looking astounded, and was unable to stop himself from smiling. “That’s incredible. Terrifying, but incredible.”

Lydia gave Derek a teasing smile. “Do you two need a minute alone?” She had accepted years ago that they still had a fondness for one another, and she was fine with it. The alternative would have been for them to hate each other, and nobody wanted that. 

Derek looked back at her, amused. “I think we’re good.” He told her, leaning in to kiss his wife. “I do keep getting the feeling that we’re in some odd alternative Westeros. Dragons and larger-than-average wolves running around in cities and wooded areas at all hours.” 

“We’re short a dragon.” Lydia pointed out. “And nobody we know is incestuous.”

“This whole pack is ambiguously incestuous.” Stiles laughed, walking out of his room when he was fully dressed. “Allison is like a sister to me, is a stepsister to you, and once asked me and Derek if we’d take turns with her. Now she’s marrying my future stepdaughter.”

“Has Peter proposed?” Lydia smirked. 

“Not yet.” Stiles admitted. “But he’ll probably ask me next week. It’s not like he can ask me today.”

Derek made a strangled noise and his entire face twitched before reverting to normal. “I really wouldn’t put it past him to try.” He told Stiles. 

“What was that?” Stiles burst out laughing. He put his suit jacket on and grabbed his keys. He hadn’t known it when his dad married Melissa, thinking his appreciation for the day was because of the people involved, but he loved weddings. 

Derek glanced at Lydia, his lips straining as he tried to keep from smiling. “Nothing at all,” he told Stiles fondly, patting the younger man’s shoulder. “You look good. Now, let’s get going before Allison gets into that fatalistic mindset of hers and convinces herself that the world is out to get her if one thing goes wrong.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Stiles called Allison as he got into the elevator. “Hey, stepdaughter-in-law-to-be.” He greeted her, smiling. “We’re leaving my apartment right now. Derek and Lyds showed up with coffee for me. How’s it going?”

“Fantastic,” Allison blurted, giving a nervous giggle. “When will you be here? Soon? Say soon, I need hugs.”

“I’d fly if I could.” Stiles muttered. “But yes, it won’t be much longer. Scott, Kira and Mouse are probably going to beat us there. Are we coming to the apartment or the courthouse?”

“The apartment, and then the courthouse,” Allison murmured. “Peter and Mal have already gone ahead. Last night, Scott decided that I wasn’t allowed to see Malia until we were both at the courthouse, and then Peter picked me up and locked me in our room, which is utterly ridiculous, but I suppose I understand it.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, that’s my idiot.” He said fondly. “Do we need to grab anything for you, on the way?”

Allison smiled softly. “I just need the somethings’ new, borrowed and blue, and three people I love.” She laughed softly. 

“Open the bottom drawer of your dresser.” Stiles hailed a cab when they got outside. “See the bag? It’s got jeweled hair pins, a necklace and a set of cufflinks. I stashed it there about six months ago. The necklace was my mom’s. I found it in the Jeep years ago. I don’t know what good the cufflinks will be, but they’re mine, so... borrowed.”

There was rustling as Allison did what he said, and then a choked sob escaped her throat. “Stiles,” she said softly. “Thank you.” She giggled. “Maybe I can use the cufflinks like earrings. I’ll figure something out. You’re wonderful, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles got into the cab and gave the driver Allison’s address. “See you in fifteen minutes.”

“See you in fifteen!” Allison replied cheerfully before hanging up. 

Derek peered at Stiles, smiling. “That went a long way toward calming her down.”

Stiles smiled back. “I pay attention to my people. I really want her to have a great day, too.”

Derek nodded. “And that’s why you’re a great alpha.” He murmured.

“Hug already.” Lydia laughed. 

Derek’s lips twitched, and he hauled Lydia in on one side before wrapping his other arm around Stiles and hugging them both tightly. 

Stiles twisted sideways to hug the couple. “This means I’m the last one to get married, you know?”

“Kira and Mouse aren’t even dating anyone.” Lydia scoffed. “You’ll be married in three days.”

Stiles laughed. “No?! I want a big wedding.”

“Peter won’t do anything less than give you the largest, most extravagant wedding you’ll ever see.” Derek assured him. “Whether he proposes next week, or a month from now, he’ll definitely make sure you two have a huge wedding to remember.”

“Good!” Stiles grinned. He got out when the cab stopped, but gave the driver a curious smile. “Could you wait? We won’t be too long. You can let the meter run.”

The cabbie shrugged, but nodded. “It’s your money, but sure.”

Stiles smiled, paying for the time they had already spent in the cab, then went into the building with Lydia and Derek.

Allison was waiting for them with the apartment door wide open, smiling and looking shy. She held her arms out to her sides, tugging a little at the nearly floor-length, sleeveless grayish-silver dress. “How do I look?” She asked softly, blushing. 

“Beautiful!” Lydia blurted. 

Derek nodded, smiling gently. “You really do.” He agreed. 

Allison ducked her head, beaming. “Thank you.” She turned toward Stiles, lifting a hand to touch the hair pins that were pulling her hair back, as well as pinning the short veil over her head in place. Stiles’ mother’s necklace was around her throat, and Stiles’ cufflinks were sitting in the belted part of her dress. “I snipped really tiny holes into the material and then fitted them into it. They kind of look like little buttons. I like it.” She gave him a crooked smile. “The veil was my mom’s.”

“Do you have everything you need, then?” Stiles smiled. 

Allison nodded, her lower lip trembling even as she smiled. “Yes, I think so.”

Stiles held his arm out to her. “Come on, then. I get to give you away to your wife.” 

Allison took a deep, shaky breath and hooked her arm through Stiles’, beaming at him, Lydia and Derek. “Let’s go make me an honest woman.” She laughed.

Stiles guided Allison outside, to the cab, and told him what courthouse to go to. He wondered if Derek was right, if Peter would propose right after Malia got married. 

Derek glanced down at Lydia and gave her a small secretive smile. He was going to keep quiet as long as he possibly could.

Allison settled herself inside the cab, gripping Stiles’ hand tightly on one side, looking anxious and excited and terrified all in one go.

When they got to the courthouse, Stiles got out and held his hand out to Allison, helping her out of the cab. He knew they were the last to arrive, and he couldn’t help being curious about what Malia was wearing to the ceremony. When they got to the right hallway, he sighed in relief at the sight of her in a white top and skirt. 

Allison clutched Stiles’ arm tightly, gazing straight ahead at her girlfriend - at her soon-to-be-wife - with a dazed smile crossing her face. She froze and patted frantically at her head. “Shit, the veil - oh, fuck it, she’d just rip it off if it was in my face anyway.” She murmured, and left the veil in place, tossed over her head.

Peter looked amused at Allison, his gaze fond. His eyes slowly tracked over to look at Stiles, and the gaze became warm and loving.

Stiles smiled back at Peter, and he barely heard anything else for the next few minutes. 

Peter stepped to the side of his daughter, solely so he could continue staring back at Stiles.

Allison gave Stiles a gentle nudge, grinning, and then hugged him tightly before murmuring, “Thank you,” and stepping away. She walked the rest of the way up the ‘aisle’ toward Malia and took the other woman’s hands. “You look amazing.” She mouthed softly.

“So do you.” Malia didn’t bother whispering. She frowned at the judge when the woman laughed. “What? She does, though.” 

Allison grinned widely. “I appreciate it.” She squeezed Malia’s hands gently, and then turned to look at the judge, a deliriously happy expression on her face.

Malia squirmed a little, eager to get the ceremony over with as she repeated after the judge. She wanted to marry Allison, but she hated the idea of any sort of red tape. If she had her way, she could have just told everyone that Allison was her wife, and that would’ve been it. 

Allison waited precisely one second after the judge had declared them married before she pounced on Malia, throwing her arms around the other woman and kissing her eagerly. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m so yours.”

Malia laughed, hugging Allison. “I told my dad to get us a hotel room for at least a few days. Want to go now?” 

“Yes, please!” Allison chirped. “Ooh, hang on.” She dropped Malia’s arm briefly, only for a second, and then rushed toward Peter. She faltered about half a foot in front of him, looking hesitant, before she reached toward him and hugged him tightly. “I feel like all I keep saying to everyone today is thank you, but… thank you.” She said softly against his shoulder. “Thank you for giving me a chance, thank you for letting me love Mal. I’m going to do everything I can to be the best person I possibly can be for her.”

Peter looked a bit shocked - his relationship with Allison had cooled down considerably from those first few months, but she’d never outright approached him like this before. Furrowing his brows deeply, his arm slid around her shoulders, and he hugged her back. “I know you will.” He said softly, and gave her another gentle squeeze before letting her go. “Now, go on. Go to Malia.”

Allison grinned widely and backed away, quickly approaching her wife and tangling their fingers together.

Stiles watched as Malia and Allison left, and he tucked his hands into his pockets, laughing softly to himself. 

Peter sidled up to him, watching his boyfriend with soft, happy eyes. “Our girls have left the nest.” He murmured, giving a soft, dramatic sniff.

“Yeah, for a week or two.” Stiles snorted. “They’ll be back, Peter. It’s not the end of the world.” 

“Sure hope not.” Peter replied, and casually withdrew a black box from his pocket, his gaze still locked ahead of them. “Otherwise, this is a send-off instead of ‘forever.’”

Stiles glanced at the box. “What?” 

Peter paused, and then turned toward Stiles. He didn’t get down on one knee. He just flicked open the box and took Stiles’ hand. “I know we’ve had our issues.” He began. “But I honestly can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you. I don’t want to. I want to be there, with you, every possible step of the way.” He lifted Stiles’ hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “I love you. And I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. Please say yes.” He paused, his lips twitching as he recalled a comparison Hayden had made years ago. “‘Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth.’”

“‘Of course it’s yes.’” Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Idiot.” He kissed Peter, confused by a familiar feminine voice swearing. “Mouse, what the hell?” 

Minerva sighed. “I wanted to talk to you before this happened.” She waved a hand at them. “Maybe I'm not too late, though.” 

Peter furrowed his brow, staring at the ice dragon. “Too late for what? I don’t understand.”

“The only things left are the solar eclipse and Stiles graduating college.” Minerva explained. “Except that it’s all ‘before we meet,’ stuff, right? So what if you voluntarily forgot each other and had to find each other again? I know it sounds crazy and scary, but I think you should consider it, because-” 

“Yes.” Stiles blurted. He looked at Peter. “Listen. I love you. But this has been hanging over our heads for years now. We can get rid of it, cheat the system. That’s what we do, anyway.” 

Peter only took a few moments to decide, nodding firmly. “You’re right. I would find you again anywhere.” He murmured. “I love you with or without the damn spell.” He pressed his lips to the center of Stiles’ palm. “I’ll find you again.”

Stiles grinned, kissing Peter. He turned toward Minerva. “What do we do?” 

Minerva got two vials out of purse. The liquid in each one was purple, and she held one out to each of the men in front of her. “Go home and drink this. You can mix it with something if you want to, but you don’t have to. You’ll remember the last few years, just not anything involving each other. And you don’t have to worry about the others ruining this. I dosed all of them before the ceremony. I kind of knew you’d say yes. They won’t forget you, they just won’t have any idea that they’re not telling you what you don’t know.” 

Peter furrowed his brows. “So… everything I was involved with in Beacon Hills… my presence, what I’ve done, will basically be a blank spot?”

“Not exactly.” Minerva shook her head. “It’s like - before you learned how to do algebra, you didn’t know algebra was a thing? So you didn’t know that you didn’t know it.” She glanced at Stiles. “Help?” 

“You won’t notice that your memories of me are gone.” Stiles laughed. “You’ll remember biting Lydia, but you won’t remember getting my help, after you bit her. You’ll remember killing Kate Argent, but anything I did to you? You won’t know it happened. Mouse, what happens when he and I do meet again? Will we remember everything?” 

“No. And I’m not making an antidote, because that ruins the entire point of this, in the first place.” Minerva smiled. “Just go home, drink up, and...” She nodded to Stiles. “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter huffed, smiling faintly. “And I won’t.” He teased her. “But I look forward to meeting you again.” He looked at Stiles. “And I am definitely looking forward to falling in love with you again.”

“Me too.” Stiles snorted. “Do you want to kiss me again before we do this?” 

“Of course I do.” Peter replied, wrapping his arm around Stiles. “I will miss this.” He murmured. “Even if I don’t know I’m missing it.” He tilted his head to kiss Stiles softly, and then kissed him harder, tightening his grip around the younger man. 

Stiles kissed back eagerly. He pulled away after a few minutes, staring at Peter. “I’ll miss you, too.” He took a step back, then another, and finally turned and left the courthouse. 

Peter stared after him, and then sighed and looked around the courthouse before he made his own way out as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Thanks for going on this journey with us.


	26. The Introduction

**August 21, 2017**

Stiles sat in a lawn chair, special sunglasses covering his eyes as he leaned back and looked up at the sun. “Allison, I need to ask you a favor. I know that Liam, Mason and Corey are living in your father-in-law’s house, in Boston. I’ve been trying to find an apartment there, but everything is falling through. I’d ask Derek, being that the guy is his uncle and all, but I feel weird about owing my ex a favor, even though we’re cool and I know he wouldn’t care. I’d care. That’s the problem. But we can just, uh, call it even. Since I helped you revise your spell and you met Malia faster.” He smiled crookedly. “So can you put in a good word for me, let him know I’m not going to set the house on - I should have used a different ‘thing I won’t do’ example. Is it okay?” 

Allison removed her sunglasses and snorted, looking over at him fondly. “Of course it’s okay.” She told him. “And I absolutely will ask him. I almost wish you’d said something before, you would’ve had the whole place to yourself.”

“How? I thought Scott’s betas were staying there.” Stiles looked confused. “I guess I don’t talk to Scott as often as I probably should? I mean, once a week, yeah. But he’s busy. Married.” He snorted. “It feels like I’m the only single person I know.” 

Allison smiled crookedly. “Well, Kira isn’t dating anyone. Neither is your one friend, Cotton Candy Girl.” She tilted her head. “I need to call Peter to be absolutely sure, but I thought Scott’s baby wolves were staying at Lydia’s old place in Boston. Either way, I know he’ll help.”

“Yeah, Lydia’s old place is Derek’s old place, is your father-in-law’s place.” Stiles laughed. “And I’m guessing you’ve never been there, either?” 

Allison grinned sheepishly. “Nope. Not that place, anyway. But Peter’s rich as hell, so I’m not actually surprised if he’s got more than one place.”

“Maybe I should just call him myself? Or is that weird? ‘Hi, Peter. I’m your daughter’s wife’s friend and I need a place to stay for the next three years.’” Stiles laughed. “If he’s smart, he’ll just hang up on me.” 

Allison giggled. “He just might, but not because he’s smart. Not that he’s not smart. He’s just kind of an asshole to people who aren’t immediately related to him. It took me _forever_ to get on his good side when I started dating Mal.”

Stiles grinned. “Give me the number. I’ll handle it right now.” 

Allison’s lips twitched and she reached for her phone. She brought up her father-in-law’s information, rattling off Peter’s phone number to Stiles.

Stiles muttered to himself as he dialed. “Probably just going to hang up, but at least I can say I tried.” 

“Peter Hale,” the voice on the other end replied sharply, sounding annoyed. “If this is a telemarketer, I’ll save you the trouble - I’m not interested in any damn thing you have to say.”

“Actually, I’m calling because I’m friends with Allison and I need a place to stay, in Boston.” Stiles blurted. “You’re kind of a last resort for me.” 

“That’s always a good thing to hear to inflate the ego.” Peter snorted. “What is your name?”

Stiles’ lips twitched. “Mieczysław, but I just go by ‘Stiles’ because it’s easier to say. And spell.” 

“Mieczysław?” Peter repeated. “You’re Polish, then? Hmm.” He was silent for a moment, and then said, “You’re Allison’s friend, you say, so I’m willing to listen solely because she’s my daughter-in-law. I have space available in my apartment - you would, of course, be paying rent, but that can be negotiable. When do you believe you’ll be able to come out here?”

“I can leave as soon as the eclipse is over.” Stiles sat up, stunned. “Uh, thank you. Seriously, thank you, I owe you like, a dozen fruit baskets. Unless you’re allergic. We’ll talk.” 

Peter snorted again. “I’d rather have good wine.” He told Stiles. “But yes, we’ll talk. I’ve got your number now, so I’ll text you the address.”

Stiles decided not to make a joke about letting the fruit ferment. “I’ll let you know when I’m in Boston.” He hung up, glancing at Allison. “In my head, that went a lot differently.” 

Allison was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m guessing you and I both had the same thought going through our heads about how things would go. That… did Peter seriously say yes?”

“Yeah.” Stiles blinked. “I mean, he said I’d have to pay rent, which was kind of obvious. But I’ve been saving up for the past few years, as much as I could. So as long as it’s not a ridiculous price, I can pay for the next few years. I’ll probably get a job working a bar or something. It wouldn’t be the first time I did that, anyway.” 

Allison squealed, reaching out to hug him. “But that’s amazing. I’m going to have to remember to get him something awesome soon… although I don’t know what, exactly, he seems like he has everything.” She shook her head. “And now I have a blatant excuse to drop in on you unexpectedly.”

“I offered him fruit baskets, but he said he wants wine. Uh, good wine. I’ll improvise. I can’t afford good wine and rent.” Stiles laughed. “Okay, so I need to leave as soon as this happens.” He gestured to the sky. “And it’s the last thing on my list.” 

Allison grinned. “Then we watch, and then I kick you out.” She told him affectionately. “And then I call Peter and thank him for being awesome and not a tool to one of my friends.”

“Being home all summer was good, at least.” Stiles smiled back at her. He didn’t speak for the next few minutes, awestruck by the sight of the eclipse. When it ended, he crossed it off his list, then took a deep breath and stood up. “Okay, I have to go pack and get the next flight out.” 

Allison stood as well, reaching out to hug him tightly. “I know.” She murmured. She huffed a soft laugh. “Thanks for watching this with me.”

“Thanks for letting me!” Stiles blurted. “I made this list when we were dumb high-schoolers.” He teased. “I never thought all of it would come true.” 

“Well, it did.” Allison teased back, smiling and poking him in the side. “And now you can move on from it.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll meet my one true love on the flight.” Stiles grinned. He hugged Allison again, then went into the rental property to pack his things back into his duffel bag. He called a goodbye out to her one more time, then took a cab to the airport. 

**

_Before I meet my one true love,_

_~~1\. I will finish college.~~ _   
_~~2\. I will take a walk around the world.~~ _   
_~~3\. There will be a solar eclipse.~~ _   
_~~4\. The Chicago Cubs will win the World Series.~~ _   
_~~5\. I will be invited to join the CIA.~~ _   
_~~6\. I will see the Mets play twenty home games.~~ _   
_~~7\. I will molt once more.~~ _   
_~~8\. Five people will give me something I didn't know I needed.~~ _   
_~~9\. My pack will have twenty people or more in it.~~ _

Stiles called Peter as he walked through the airport in Boston. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I’m in the city, and I’m getting into a cab in about five minutes.” 

“Very well.” Peter replied. He was silent for a moment, and then hummed in approval. “Alright. Have you received the text message with my address?”

“Yes, I did.” Stiles got into the first cab at the stand outside, giving the address to the driver before he spoke to Peter again. “For what it’s worth, I’ll figure out something else if you decide you don’t want me to live in your apartment. No hard feelings, either. I’m going to be blunt, sometimes people just don’t like me.” 

“No one likes me.” Peter quipped, sounding proud. “Surprisingly. I’m completely charming. It baffles me, really.”

Stiles laughed. “Well, I'm at least inclined to think you’re some kind of saint, because I wasn’t kidding about having nowhere else to go. I’d suffer through being homeless if I had to, though.” 

“I don’t believe there is anyone that you know that would be fine with that happening.” Peter replied. “And since I’m fairly certain my daughter would raze the earth to the ground if I allowed anything to happen to her wife’s pseudo-brother, I’d be remiss if I didn’t step forward to offer you my assistance. But believe me - I’m absolutely not a saint. I’d probably be struck by lightning if I set foot in a church.”

“No need to test that theory.” Stiles remarked. “Thank you for all of this, regardless of your reasons.” 

Peter huffed a laugh. “Don’t mention it.” He murmured. “I’ll see you in a bit, yes?”

“Yes.” Stiles made a face at himself, wondering why he felt the need to be more formal instead of uttering his usual ‘yeah,’ in response to something. Confused, he hung up and pocketed his phone, paying the cab driver when he got to the building. He got out, taking the elevator up to the floor where Peter’s apartment was. After wandering around and getting lost twice, he found the apartment door and knocked. 

Peter opened the door, looking up from the handle to look at Stiles. He straightened, staring at the younger man. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Stiles stared back at Peter, then realized what he was doing and cleared his throat, holding his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Peter stared at his hand, and then blinked, realizing why Stiles was holding it out. He reached out with his own hand and shook Stiles’ hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He murmured. “Come on in.”

Stiles smiled, walking into the apartment. His mouth opened and he dropped his duffel bag, walking over to the windows to admire the view of the sunset over the city. “Hours ago, I was watching the eclipse.” He blurted. “And the sun is just setting now, like it never even happened... I’m sorry, I probably sound like an idiot. It’s beautiful, like it always is. This view is fantastic.” 

“It’s why I chose this building.” Peter murmured, turning to look out the window as well. “Large windows everywhere - nothing but natural light from sunrise until sunset.”

Stiles turned his head to look at Peter. He hadn’t really been interested in dating until a year earlier, and he sort of skipped over the dating part and went straight to sex. But nobody captured his attention as easily as Peter had managed to, even in the short amount of time they had been acquainted. He could say a million different things, but he settled for the most polite one, the one that had nothing at all to do with how badly he wanted to see the older man naked. “How much is rent?” 

Peter rolled his head toward Stiles to look at him. He was silent for a long moment, studying the younger man’s mouth and eyes, the spattering of moles against his skin including a few on his jaw that Peter wanted to put his mouth on, the tiny laugh lines and crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He’d never felt want as much as he did when he looked at Stiles. There had been lust, plenty of it, but never a genuine want, a desire for another person, to have all of them to himself. He inhaled deeply, licking his lips as he blinked and brought himself back to answer Stiles’ question without giving into his desire to bend him over the closest flat surface. “Ah… I suppose I can give you a ‘friend of the family’ discount.” He murmured. “Seven hundred. That’s more than fair, I think; if you were any closer to the city center, you’d be paying double, maybe triple that.”

Stiles nodded. “That sounds reasonable.” With the money he had saved up and what he received as a graduation gift, he would be okay on rent for at least a year. That wasn’t going to stop him from looking for a job right away, but he knew better than to think he could handle more than twenty hours a week, and that would make his life a little difficult. “I don’t suppose you need someone to pick up your dry-cleaning or cook meals for you, or anything like that? Something you could either pay me for, or just consider it an exchange? I live here, you don’t die of starvation or malnutrition. Not that you look to be in danger of that.” He smiled. “Maybe just the dry-cleaning, then?” And then, because he hadn’t missed the way Peter had been looking at him and he had decided not to ignore it, he licked his lips and added, “We could talk about it after I’ve seen your bedroom.”

The glint in Peter’s eyes brightened, and his entire body straightened, his nostrils flaring sharply. A low noise of interest escaped his throat, and he put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, turning him toward the correct hallway. “Of course.” He purred, a slow smile crossing his face. His hand slid lower. “Right this way.”

Stiles let Peter guide him down the hall, taking note of where the bed was before he turned to kiss the older man.

Like a viper, Peter’s arm shot out and wrapped around Stiles’ body, drawing out the kiss and making it deeper. He pressed his tongue to Stiles’ lips and lightly pressed them open. One hand moved up to cup Stiles’ chin, and the other suddenly jerked up, lifting Stiles into his arms before Peter twisted at the waist and dropped Stiles onto the bed. He followed a second later, his lips latching onto the pulse at Stiles’ throat, sucking fervently. 

Stiles groaned, his head tilting back to give Peter better access as he unfastened his jeans. 

Peter’s hands snapped out and pinned Stiles’ hands to the mattress with a grin, and then he stopped moving completely, just staring at the man underneath him until his hips shifted against Stiles of their own volition in a slow, filthy grind. He repeated it again, and then once more before he let go of Stiles’ hands and reached for the other man’s legs, hitching them up and over his shoulders as he thrust against Stiles. His lips returned to their task at Stiles’ throat, biting and sucking until a magnificent-looking hickey appeared on the younger man’s paler skin.

“You’re going to make me come in my jeans.” Stiles muttered, more charmed than annoyed. “And it feels like you’re claiming me.” He stared up at Peter. “Which I’m definitely fine with.”

“Are you?” Peter asked, tilting his head curiously. He trusted Stiles’ legs to stay in place as he pulled his hands away and slid them down the front of Stiles’ body. He yanked open the other man’s jeans and tugged them off swiftly, pushing Stiles’ legs straight into the air to rid him of his pants completely. He settled back over Stiles, still studying the young man intently, and his eyes glowed ice blue. “I would claim you.” He replied eventually. “I want to, very much. You feel… like mine.”

“I feel like you’re mine, too.” Stiles nodded. “I’m not used to that.” He brought a hand up to Peter’s neck, lifting himself up for another kiss. “Dragons generally don’t claim people.”

Peter smiled into the kiss, stroking his fingers down Stiles’ chest. “Dragon. Of course. I knew you were a shifter, I just couldn’t pinpoint the type. What is your element?” He murmured, unbuttoning his own jeans and shoving them down the best that he could before he began moving against Stiles again.

Stiles tightened his grip on Peter’s neck. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, just meant to keep him from fleeing. “Fire. I’ve had to use it to kill, but only the people who were a danger to someone else’s survival.” His gaze went to Peter’s hand, and he froze, then lifted his right, showing him the matching ring he wore. “This... I never knew where it came from. Maybe it was yours and you had to buy a replacement? We know a lot of the same people, maybe things got mixed up enough that I got it, somehow. The trees on it remind me of the forest, back home. And I promised myself...” He laughed shakily. “This conversation is killing the mood, right?”

Peter shook his head, his eyes slightly wide as he stared at Stiles. “Not for me.” He looked at his hand, and then looked at Stiles’. “I never questioned the ring. I thought the same - that it was for my love of the forest. I grew up there - which I’m sure you might know already, if you’re friends with my daughter or her cousins. I - I suppose it’s entirely plausible that I lost the ring and purchased another, but I don’t recall ever doing so. I don’t recall anything surrounding it. It just seemed to find residence on my hand one day, and it’s been there ever since.”

Stiles laced the fingers of his right hand with Peter’s left. “I wear it on my left hand, sometimes.” He admitted. “When I go out to drink and I don’t want to be bothered. But you’ve always worn yours on the left?” 

Peter stared down at their hands twined together, and he nodded. “Ever since I can remember.” He murmured. 

“Do you -” Stiles licked his lips nervously. “Can I ask you a few questions? They might be weird.” 

Peter sat up - if they were going to talk, he wanted to be able to listen, and not be addled by the blood in his body rushing south all at once. It was regrettable, but this was more important - things weren’t adding up, and if they weren’t adding up for Stiles, either, he wanted to know why. “You can ask.” He replied, studying the younger man. 

“Okay. It’s just - a few years ago, I was doing this thing with a few of my friends, sort of as a joke, but not?” Stiles made a face, certain he sounded moronic. “A love spell. To sort of find our one true love. Loves? Since there was more than one of us.” He snorted. “Uh, anyway. Mine had conditions. The last condition was just today, that there would be a solar eclipse. I actually never expected it to happen. I guess I’m jaded. Or I was. Until now. Do you like to eat ice cream outside, in winter?” 

“I get a fair few odd looks for it.” Peter confirmed, nodding and looking a bit astounded.

Stiles smiled slowly. “What’s your favorite shape?” 

“Most people think it’s a bit morbid.” Peter prefaced, looking at Stiles warily. “But as you’re a dragon, I suppose you can understand why I would see the beauty in the shape of a human heart.”

“Because it’s not what people expect.” Stiles laughed, nodding. He took a deep breath in. “I think you might be my person.” 

“It would certainly explain a lot,” Peter said softly. “I’ve experience attraction to people… I’ve never wanted to claim any of them as my own before now.” He watched Stiles’ face, and then slowly leaned in for a kiss, his eyes remaining open until there was barely an inch between them.

Stiles met Peter’s lips with his own, feeling relieved that he had met his true love. His friends had all done it years earlier, and he had been convinced that he was somehow broken, that there was nobody for him. 

Peter drew Stiles closer, a barely detectable tremor in his hands. He’d had exactly one relationship in his life that had led to nothing but a damaged mind and a wounded soul, and that had been the relationship between himself and Malia’s mother. The woman had used him, had attempted to murder his daughter, and her existence had led to the single worst experience of his life. When he’d woken up from his coma, when his sanity had returned, when he’d remembered that he _was_ a father, and that the girl’s mother had attempted infanticide, he’d resolved that no one he was attracted to would ever be a part of his life or Malia’s. A long string of one-night-stands became the result of the last five years, and he’d become resigned to never truly finding anyone that was really meant to be his. And then one chance phone call from the beautiful boy in front of him had changed all of it in a split second. His heart pounded with the startled realization that this _was_ really happening, and he wasn’t hallucinating - he’d agreed to allow his daughter’s friend to move in, and had instead met the one person in the world that he would always love. His kiss became urgent, and a hand cupped the back of Stiles’ head, keeping him close. 

Stiles only pulled away long enough to take his shirt off, and he started kissing Peter’s neck, rubbing his shoulders, anywhere else he could reach. “We’re definitely re-negotiating rent.” He teased, laughing. 

Peter let out a snort of amusement, his lips twitching. “Without a doubt. I can’t have my lover pay me money for a place to stay. That would make me a hooker.” He stared down at Stiles, smiling broadly. “I’m much too pretty and much too high class to be a hooker.”

“We’re all the same with the lights off.” Stiles retorted, smirking. He didn’t believe that at all, and he knew Peter would know he was joking, as sure as he knew that breathing was necessary to be alive. 

Peter let out a loud laugh, cupping Stiles’ face and drawing him back up in order to kiss him. “Let’s pick up where we left off.” He murmured, and tilted Stiles’ head to the side, placing kisses and dragging his tongue across his throat. He kept moving lower, the fingers of one hand twisting a nipple gently while his mouth wrapped around another and sucked with slow pulls. His hips moved in time with his mouth, grinding and thrusting with each suck. 

Stiles met Peter’s thrusts with his own, grateful for the cool air from the vents because he thought he might spontaneously combust from how hot he was - a strange feat for a dragon like him. “I’m going to die.” He blurted, grinning lazily as he looked at Peter. 

Peter grinned back. “Now don’t be ridiculous. I’ve only just found you, you have to know I wouldn’t let that happen.” He teased.

**

The next morning, Stiles didn’t bother getting dressed in more than a pair of boxers before he went to the living room to see the sunrise through the windows. He hadn’t even unpacked, and his duffel bag was right where he had dropped it, the evening before. He smiled as he glanced over his shoulder at it, thinking it probably wasn’t going to end up in the spare room, anyway. 

Peter approached him from behind, slipping his arms around Stiles’ waist. He pressed slow, barely-there kisses against the younger man’s shoulder before propping his chin on it. “Gorgeous view. And better company.” He murmured. 

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “So, where exactly am I unpacking my clothes? It’s okay if you need your own space.” 

“Oh, not at all. I think I’ve had my own space for entirely too long now.” Peter replied. “But if it’s more comfortable for you, given how new this is, you can unpack your things in the guest room.” He looked down at Stiles and smiled. “And share my bed. That way if I do something that doesn’t sit well with you, you have your own space to go to, and if I happen to be in a terrible mood for any reason, you have somewhere calm to retreat to. But either way, I do want you sharing my bed.”

“That works for me.” Stiles nodded. He turned around, kissing Peter. “We’re doing this backwards, and I don’t even care. I want to get to know everything about you.” 

Peter kissed him back. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. And you know, I did everything the right way around with Malia’s mother and it still blew up spectacularly in my face, so… maybe backwards is a good thing for us.”

“You won’t have to worry about any of that with me.” Stiles said earnestly. “I mean, I like Malia. I’m not the most tactful person, so I can appreciate her brutal honesty. And when it comes to kids... I can have my own. Without help, I mean. I’m waiting until I’m done with law school.” He grinned at Peter. “But it’s kind of nice to know that ‘the rest of my life’ started yesterday.” 

Peter’s lips twitched, and he grinned. “It is a pretty damn good feeling.” He murmured, kissing Stiles’ neck.


End file.
